Falling Into College Year 3
by RLobinske
Summary: Daria and company's junior year of college brings many changes and new challenges.
1. Past Influences

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2006.

This is the 49th story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Past Influences**

"At least somebody's here to greet me," Karen Myerson said to the black cat rubbing against her leg as the young blonde entered her apartment.

Bump meowed and threaded her body between Karen's feet.

Still holding two suitcases, Karen said, "Hey, be careful down there. I'd like to get to my room with both of us in one piece."

They made it to Karen's bedroom without serious mishap and she placed the luggage on the stripped bed. "So, where's your staff today?" she asked Bump, who'd jumped onto a suitcase to continue seeking attention. 

Karen sat on the bed, scratched the cat behind its ears and said, "I bet you'd get a kick out of running around the farm and catching something bigger than a moth, or somebody's foot." 

Bump gracefully stepped upon Karen's lap and made herself comfortable. Smiling, Karen looked around and said, "It's good to be back."

* * *

Both arms holding grocery bags, Jane pushed the door open with her foot and said, "Dammit, Karen! You weren't supposed to be here so soon."

Also carrying bags, Daria entered and said, "What did you do, leave the hotel at the crack of dawn? Or did you just make the drive from Georgia non-stop?"

Stirring the contents of a large pot on the stove, Karen said, "Well, howdy to you, too. I pushed a little later before stopping for the night, and…" She shrugged and said, "I left the hotel before dawn."

Placing her bags on the kitchen counter, Jane said, "Ugh. We're going to have to get used to a cheerful, early riser again." She hugged her returned friend and teased, "Karen, I was hoping you'd gotten over that."

Daria also set her groceries down and waited a couple seconds to also hug Karen in greeting. "Are you kidding? She just got back from early riser reinforcement camp."

"Hey, guys. Glad you haven't trashed the place while I was gone."

Jane peeked into the pot and cautiously asked, "What's this?" 

"Boiled peanuts." Karen pointed at the pantry and several produce bags marked "Myerson Certified Organic" and said, "With a lot of my stuff already up here, I could carry more goodies like fresh sweet onions, carrots, potatoes and sweet potatoes."

Daria stepped over to the vegetables and said, "Trying to corrupt us with your healthy food again." 

Still looking in the pot with trepidation, Jane said, "I'm not convinced about the healthy part."

"They're not ready yet," Karen explained. "Peanuts have to simmer for a couple hours."

"Um, they haven't been shelled," Jane said.

Karen rolled her eyes. "You're not supposed to until you eat them."

"Daria, you've got to see this."

"I remember boiled peanuts from when I lived in Texas," Daria said. "Dad used to buy them from a roadside stand."

"I can't see Helen eating these." 

"Oh, she hated them. Dad only bought them when Mom wasn't in the car."

"What about you?" Karen asked.

"Actually, I like them. We used to stop at a gas station to clean up so Mom wouldn't know."

Jane said, "How much did it cost you to keep Quinn's mouth shut?" 

"She was just as guilty."

Surprised, Jane said, "And you never used that against her?"

"Things never escalated that far."

Jane looked back into the pot. "So these things are safe to eat."

Karen stirred the contents some more. "If you have any doubts, I'll eat the first batch out."

* * *

Tossing a peanut shell into a bowl beside her, Karen said, "Caught the bouquet, huh? Plan on making it two in a row at your aunt's fancy wedding?"

Sitting on the other side of the sofa, Daria said, "From what Amy's said about some of the single faculty she's invited, I want to stay well clear of the trample zone…and Quinn is staying in front of me the whole time." 

Face smeared with sticky juice from the boiled peanuts, Jane sat on the floor with a large bowl of them placed on her crossed legs. "Karen, with a little practice, I bet we could push both of them."

"I can't believe your aunt invited me," Karen said. "We only met once."

Daria explained, "It's Amy's way of saying she likes you."

"But, what explains my invite?" Jane asked.

"Prurient interest," Daria jokingly said.

"Speaking of aunts," Jane said, "how'd things go with your nephew, Karen?"

"Oh, Wayne is so cute. Hold on." Karen made a quick trip to her room and came back with a stack of photos. "With how much my brother's taking digital photos, I recommend buying stock in photo paper. Now, wipe your hands before I pass these around."

Daria pulled a couple paper towels from a loose roll and passed it to Jane. "Already on it."

In rapid order, Daria looked through the pictures and passed them to Jane. "Yep, he looks like a baby."

"Don't get all sentimental on us, Daria." Taking longer to look at the photos, Jane said, "He is a cutie, Karen."

"Thanks," she replied. Karen took the pictures back and looked through them. "It's weird thinking about my brother as a father."

Jane said, "Thinking of Summer as a mother is freaky enough; I don't even want to think of Wind or Trent as a father."

"I don't know," Daria observed. "I can see Trent as a caring father. Look at how he was with you, Jane."

"Daria, scary as it may seem, I was the responsible one, remember?" 

"But you always knew he cared, didn't you?" 

"Okay, you've got me."

"And I don't see Lindy letting him slack off."

"If anyone can light a fire under Trent, it's her."

Karen said, "See all the fun you missed by not having an older brother, Daria?" 

Somebody knocked on the door and Daria turned to face it. "I wonder who that could be."

"I'm already up," Karen said, going to the door. After a quick look through the peephole, she opened it.

A slender young woman with dark brown hair stood outside. She looked uncertainly at Karen and asked, "Um, I hope I found the right place. Does Daria Morgendorffer live here?"

Daria rose to see who was at the door. "Elsie?"

The woman said, "Hi, Daria." 

Jane said, "Wow, this is a surprise."

Elsie waved and said, "Hi, Jane."

"They appear to know you, so come on in. Hi, I'm Karen."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Elsie Sloane."

Daria explained, "Her brother is Tom."

Confused, Karen said, "Okay, you and Jane's ex…this is getting a little weird."

Elsie said, "Yeah, I know dropping in out of the blue must seem strange."

Jane said, "That, plus Karen and I were talking about older brothers."

"I hope you're not passing them around like Daria and Jane did with Tom."

"Hey!" those two cried out together.

Karen said, "Nah. Actually, we were talking about married older brothers and my new nephew."

Elsie asked Jane, "Trent, or that weird one? Again."

"Trent, believe it or not." 

They migrated to the living room and Elsie looked at the snack bowls. "What are those?"

Karen shook her head. "Argh, another one. Boiled peanuts."

"Do you mind?" Elsie asked, hand hovering over a bowl. "I've been rather sheltered, snack-wise."

"With how well stocked your mom used to keep that refrigerator?" Jane asked in astonishment.

"Jane," Daria said. "Kay's idea of a snack was pâté or imported cheese."

"Oh, yeah. I remember Kay getting a bit upset when I said her cheese was moldy."

Elsie said, "It was imported Stilton. Mom's…rather fond of it."

"It was still moldy." 

"It's supposed to be," Daria said.

"And you made comments about the fridge when I lived with my folks?" Jane retorted.

"Individually-wrapped slices of cheese-like food are not supposed to get moldy. Actually, I didn't think that mold could grow on the stuff before I saw it at your place."

"Well, they had been in the Tank for a month."

After having difficulty popping the shell open, Elsie tried a peanut and said, "Not quite what I expected, but not bad."

Karen grinned. "Another convert." 

"I'm sure you're wondering why I'm here," Elsie said.

"I didn't think it was to sample our cuisine," Daria said.

Jane said, "Yeah, Boston isn't exactly on the way to Bromwell."

Elsie paused before saying, "First…I'm not going to Bromwell. I, um, wasn't accepted." 

Stunned, Daria said, "No offense, but I really thought that your family were shoo-ins there."

"It wasn't easy, but eating a jumbo bean burrito before the interview helped. So did a few choice family anecdotes that normally aren't repeated away from the Cove."

Jane said, "You sabotaged your interview?"

Elsie nodded, yes.

"Why?" Daria asked.

"You probably won't understand, but I didn't want to go. I wanted to try something different."

"I think I understand, though I'm sure your parents don't."

"Not in the least. But, at least the idea of me not going to college is even more embarrassing me than not going to Bromwell, so they're grudgingly footing the bill for me to go where I want. Not that they're paying that much either, what with the scholarship package I put together."

Jane said, "Don't tell me; you're going to Raft."

"No," Elsie said with a laugh. "I'm flying out of Logan International for England. I'm going to a small university called Archbury in East Anglia."

"Hey, small world," Karen said. "My granddad was based near a town called Archbury during WWII."

Jane queried, "So, what's there?"

"They have a great International Business program."

"Okay, that's not a big surprise," Daria said.

"It is for a Sloane daughter."

Karen said, "You're kidding me." 

"I wish. I was expected to get a lightweight degree from Bromwell to keep me busy until I could become the proper wife of a wealthy household. Screw that."

"Ah, gonna strike out on your own?" Jane asked.

"Not entirely. I'm planning on becoming working part of Grace, Sloane and Page." Sternly, added, "Why should Tom have all the fun?"

Daria said, "Perhaps you can marry Tom off to be the proper husband of a wealthy house."

Jane said, "Damn, Daria. I thought you didn't hold any grudges against him."

"I don't, but I couldn't let a straight line like that go unanswered." 

Karen asked, "I take it that Grace, Sloane and Page is the family business?"

"Tom and I will be the fourth generation."

"Ha, my family has yours beat," Karen boasted. "Terry's the fifth generation on the farm." 

Daria said, "Okay, so you're flying to England. Why are you flying out of Logan instead of someplace closer to Lawndale?" 

Elsie folded her hands together and said, "I wanted to thank you and Jane for your good influences."

"Good influences?" Karen said, heavy on the sarcasm. "This, I've got to hear."

* * *

Empty pizza boxes were mixed with the full bowls of peanut shells and empty soda cans on the living room floor by the time they'd finished lunch. Elsie wiped her lips with a napkin before saying, "So, it really hit me when I found out that Daria didn't get into Bromwell. To be honest, Mom was also upset and had a few choice words with the registrar."

"Oh," Daria said.

Jane shrugged. "She probably wouldn't have said much for me."

"Jane, Mom once said, 'If nothing else, Tom has good taste in girlfriends.' She liked you, too." 

Now it was Jane's turn to say, "Oh."

"Dad, on the other hand, wasn't too thrilled with you."

"Big surprise there," Jane facetiously said. "I got the feeling that he thought I was after something. That is, something other than raiding the contents of the fridge."

Embarrassed, Elsie said, "He thought you were after some of the family money." 

"That would explain a comment Tom made during an argument we had," Daria said. "Not something that needs repeating, but it contributed to my first breakup with Tom, while you were at the art community, Jane."

Elsie said, "Daria, Dad thought you would make a good wife…once you settled down." 

Karen snorted and coughed after trying to laugh while drinking a soda. "He would've been in for a long wait." 

Laughing, Jane pointed her soda can at Karen. "Maybe we should set you up with Tom. Keep things fair. But, we have to set things up properly." Jane tried to imitate Tom's voice. "Derek, I kissed your girlfriend."

Karen joined the laughter. "Then, he could kiss his ass goodbye. Derek would turn him into hamburger for even implying something like that."

"Okay, I'm missing something here," Elsie said.

Daria said, "I…didn't think Tom would've said anything about that." 

"About what?"

"Didn't you notice that Tom and I started dating…rather soon after he was dating Jane?" 

"It's not like I followed my brother's love life that closely, but now that you mention it…oh my, I thought I was joking earlier."

* * *

As the last bit of _Freakin' Friends_ finished, Jane turned off the CD player and said, "In the end, the whole thing gave my brother the idea for the one CD single that his old band actually managed to sell."

Having listened to the story intently, Elsie said, "Wow. That says something that you two are still friends. But, Tom's in deep trouble the next time I see him." 

Karen pointed her thumb at Daria and joked, "Don't look at me; I'd have gone Jerry Springer on her ass."

"Don't let her fool you. She's a softy at heart," Daria said.

"Hey, we're even on that, remember?" Karen replied. Actually, I think you're a little ahead with getting me an invite to your aunt's wedding down around D.C weekend after next. That is going to be so cool."

Elsie said, "I feel for your aunt, trying to get a wedding planned down there then, what with that big Barksdale-Wyatt wedding going on at the same time."

Jane asked, "You've heard about it?"

"I couldn't help but hear about it. It's the talk of high-society types along the mid-Atlantic. Everyone involved in the wedding business has been trying to angle in on a piece of it and getting an invite is like getting a golden ticket. Mom's been planning on what to wear for months."

Jane and Karen covered their mouths to unsuccessfully hide their laughter. Elsie held up her hands and said, "Okay, what am I missing this time?"

Karen pointed at Daria. "Bridesmaid for her Aunt Amy."

"Amy?" Elsie's eyes grew wide in surprise. "Amy Barksdale is your aunt?"

"Um, yeah," Daria said. "I had no idea of how rich Amy's fiancé's family was or what a spectacle this was going to turn into when I agreed."

"Wait…bridesmaid? Oh, my God."

"I'm figuring this will be the pinnacle of my career, so I'm planning on retiring when it's over." 

"Almost makes me wish I were going."

Karen said, "You're not?"

"I'm taking an overnight flight to England after dinner. I'm not in the mood for four trans-Atlantic flights in two weeks. Or, to run into my parents. They would love to try to find me a nice boy among the guests. Besides, I didn't exactly leave on good terms."

Jane rubbed her chin. "Ouch.

"It wasn't pretty and I don't want to think about it. Please?"

Jane nodded. "Agreed, off limits. So, is Tom going to be there?"

"No. He still thinks weddings are too corny and boring."

Jane and Daria exchanged gazes and the latter said, "Some things don't change."

Elsie said, "I've heard rumors about the dresses. Can I see?"

Daria replied, "I don't see what it will hurt, though they have been keeping these stupid things under wraps. But since I don't see any cameras on you…" 

"I promise not to tip off the paparazzi."

"In my closet," Daria said as she pushed off the sofa.

All three women crowded around Daria as she took a zippered, leather garment bag from her closet and opened it to pull out the palest of green silk gowns. It was Edwardian style with a form-fitting blouse topped by a high collar, long sleeves tapering to a cuff and a full, flowing skirt. Embroidery in green and yellow softly accented the collar and sleeves.

Elsie gasped at the designer original and said, "That would make all those stuffy girls at the Starry Night Ball keel over, green with envy. By the way, Daria, be glad you got out of that snooze fest."

"Thanks. I have to admit that it's beautiful." A motion caught her eye, making Daria look at her cat lazily watching from the window. She said, "Bump, you and your stray fur need to stay put."

Bump gave her a momentary glance, licked a paw and proceeded to wash her face.

"Give it up, Daria," Karen said. That cat's fur is already everywhere. Hell, I took enough of it home with me to Georgia."

"Not surprising, with how much time that cat spends on your laundry," Jane said. "Must be all the interesting smells you bring home from work."

Ignoring Jane, Karen said, "Damn. If that's the bridesmaid's outfit, what does the bride's look like?"

"Except for Amy, a select few, and the battalion of tailors assembling it, nobody knows."

A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. Jane said, "I'll go check to see which one it is." 

Pre-emptively answering Elsie was she put the gown away, Daria said, "With Karen back, we'd planned to get together with our boyfriends for a lazy afternoon. That's probably one of them at the door."

Jane led the way and the rest followed into the living room. When she opened the door, Jane said, "Karen, it's yours."

"Nice to see you too, Jane," Derek Adler said as he entered.

Jane walked around and pointed to the base of his close-cropped hair. "See, it's tattooed on the back of his neck."

"Don't be silly," Karen said as she hurried over to embrace Derek. "I use a brand."

While waiting for Karen and Derek to come up for air, Elsie said, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything." 

Daria shook her head. "Don't worry, it's not like we're planning some kind of group grope. Those two haven't seen each other in about a month."

Jane couldn't resist adding, "Besides, Mack and I are more acrobatic, while Daria and Michael are a couple of mushballs."

"Hmm, I'd wondered about that," Elsie said. "After some of Tom's comments, it makes sense that Daria's a romantic. And, well, since Tom's not…even more things are adding up."

"Tom tried, but it really wasn't in his nature," Daria said, defending her old boyfriend. "But, I can't blame him for taking my outer personality at face value. I had a hard time letting someone really know about that part of me."

Leaning her head against Derek's chest, Karen said, "Oh, come on. You were hooked after only seeing Michael for a week."

"Yeah, I could see it on your face a mile away when I picked you up at the airport that Christmas." Jane tapped a green malachite pendant that Daria wore and said, "You've hardly taken that off since." 

"But, it still took too long to actually tell Michael how I felt."

Jane agreed, "Okay, you drug your feet on that part."

Derek said, "Hi, Daria. Who's your guest?"

"I'm Elsie. Daria and Jane's old boyfriend's sister."

Derek bounced one finger in front of his face, mentally ticking off each point of the sentence before finally asking, "Trying to figure out which one got him pregnant?"

Elsie tossed her hands in the air and joked, "You're just as bad as they are."

"It's a survival tool."

Elsie addressed Daria and Jane, "Let me guess, the same goes for your boyfriends."

Jane said, "What do you think?"

* * *

Looking at Mack MacKenzie cradling Jane sideways in his arms after she'd leapt onto him, Elsie said to Karen, "Yep, Jane and Mack are more acrobatic."

Mack said, "Actually, I prefer to be called Mike, but I still let a few people get away with Mack."

Jane kissed his neck and said, "That's because you know what's good for you."

"Then I'll call you Mike," Elsie said. She turned to Daria, who was holding hands with Michael Fulton. "Don't you find it just a little creepy that you and Jane found boyfriends with the same first name?" 

"Blame Jane; I had mine first," Daria said. 

Michael said, "No need to be jealous just because she has the same impeccable taste in men's names as you do."

Mack said, "Indeed."

"See what you started?" Jane said as she pointed her finger at Elsie.

"So shoot me," she replied.

Karen smirked and said, "She learns fast."

"Uh, no," Jane said. "Elsie already knew the ways of sarcasm. She needed time to settle in." 

Elsie performed an exaggerated curtsy. "Thank you. Now that everyone's here, where do you want to eat dinner? My treat. I came here to thank Daria and Jane for giving me what I needed to really take my own path, and not just wish I was. The rest of you are their good friends, so you're included."

Derek said, "Free food? I'm in."

"Same here," Michael said.

Daria gently elbowed his ribs. "So you don't have to cook?"

He nodded. "You know it'll be safer." 

"Since I'm sure a Sloane credit card is as well stocked as their fridge, sounds like a good deal to me," Jane said. 

Mack eased Jane down to allow her to stand. "I haven't eaten since leaving Vance and I'm not a local, so I'll go anywhere." 

"After cleaning up fast food wrappers all day on the Freedom Trail, I'll take anyplace that's slow and away from the historic district," Michael said.

Derek suggested, "I wouldn't mind some dead cow. How about Redd Sock's Steaks?" 

"In the name of diplomacy, I'll go along with some Yankee food," Karen agreed.

"Hmmm," Daria pondered before deciding. "One of their steakburgers would hit the spot."

"You can get something more than a hamburger," Elsie said.

Jane said, "Don't worry. Redd's idea of a steakburger is a six ounce sirloin on a bun. Speaking of which, that sounds good."

* * *

Elsie signed the dinner receipt and placed her credit card back in her purse. Sliding the receipt and check tray aside, she smiled at the others gathered around the table and the remains of dinner. "When my brother decided to get away from the country club's annual ceilidh dance to check out a grunge place on Dega Street, he had no clue of how much that simple act of rebellion would change our lives."

Jane cocked her head and said, "You mean this all got started because Tom ditched one of your mom's get-togethers?"

"Large effects from a small change in starting conditions. Now that I think about it, chaos theory explains a lot about what happened," Daria said.

"I know you think it's odd, but in your particular ways, you became role models for me. I learned to enjoy life and to choose my own way. And that I didn't have to be perfect and it was okay to apologize." 

Jane said to Daria, "Somebody learning from our screw-ups with Tom. How twisted is that?"

"And from your good points," Elsie corrected.

Daria said, "I'm glad you learned something from me faster than I learned myself." She squeezed Michael's hand. "I'm glad somebody had patience with my insecurities."

He said, "Trust me, the patience was mutual."

Elsie rose and prepared to leave. "I still need to drop off the rental car and check in for my flight. Thanks everybody, for such a nice day."

Everyone else expressed their appreciation for the dinner and the group walked out to the parking lot.

Karen and Derek were the first to pull away, with her saying, "It's been nice meeting you Elsie. But, since I haven't seen this big lug in a while…"

Elsie waved to them and said, "Glad I met you."

Jane and Mack stopped at Jane's car. Elsie hugged Jane and said, "Take care of yourself. I owe you."

Jane said, "You too, and have a safe flight."

Mack nodded and said, "Pleasure to meet you."

"Good bye," Elsie said and then followed Daria and Michael to their car. She also hugged Daria. "Good bye. I'll always look up to you."

"Um…thanks. I, uh, hope I can live up to it."

Michael said, "I'm sure Daria will. Good bye, Elsie."

After short waves between them, Elsie walked to her rental car as Daria and Michael drove away. She sat silently in the car for a while before saying, "The right thing to do."

* * *

A little frazzled after the return drive to Logan airport, Elsie was glad to drop off the rental car and finally pick up her boarding pass. Carrying only her purse and a small overnight bag, she took her time crossing the busy airport to find her departure gate. Not far from security, she heard her name called. Elsie turned in surprise and said, 'Mom, Dad? What…?"

Kay Sloane said, "Oh, Elsie. Our last child is leaving the nest and we...we couldn't leave things the way they were when you left."

"So, we decided to meet you here," Angier added.

"How are Daria and Jane?" Kay asked.

"Oh, they're doing fine…how'd you know?"

"Call it a mother's hunch." 

"Trust me, she's good at those," Angier said. 

"Besides, I can look up travel information online as easily as you can, and Boston was not the most convenient way to fly to London. There had to be another reason."

Angier added, "And since Daria and Jane are in Boston…it became clear who you wanted to see."

Irritated, Elsie said, "Do you have a problem with that?"

Kay and Angier looked at each other for mutual support , hoping the situation didn't get out of hand.

Elsie went on to say, "Because I hope not." 

"No," Kay said, shaking her head. "Though I was a little surprised at first."

"I hadn't thought about either one of those young ladies for a long time, not since Tom stopped seeing Daria," Angier said. With the effort of a man not used to admitting his errors, he went on to say, "But when your mother said you must be coming here to see them, your decision to abandon Bromwell and go your own way started to make sense." 

Kay took her daughter's hand. "I also have a hunch you're going to do well at Archbury." She glanced back at Angier and said, "And after that, maybe you can shake things up at your father's company."

Though clearly still not yet comfortable with the idea, Angier said, "And drag us, kicking and screaming, into the twentieth century."

"You mean, the twenty-first," Elsie corrected.

"One step at a time."

Elsie laughed as the tension broke. "Okay, I'll try to take it slow on you."

Kay said, "Daria and Jane were nice girls. I wish I could see them again." 

"Well, Mom, you might just be surprised." 

"Elsie?"

"Just wait, you'll understand."

"Okay, dear. But, you have almost an hour before your plane boards. Please, tell us what's been going on with them."

* * *

Standing on the outside landing of her apartment, Daria looked toward the few bright stars overcoming the city glow in the sky and rested her head on Michael's shoulder. "I can't believe Elsie went so far out of her way to thank us."

"Sounds like you made a big impression on her," he said, resting his head against hers.

"But that's the thing," Daria said. "We didn't talk very much or anything when I was seeing Tom. I always kind of figured she'd be the type to hang out with Quinn."

"Well, think about how much Quinn looks up to you."

Daria gently grumbled.

"You're just a good influence."

She playfully glared at him through the top of her glasses.

"Okay, you're a good, bad influence."

Daria kissed his neck just under the jaw and whispered, "Better."

* * *

The details of Amy Barksdale's wedding will appear in Brother Grimace's story, _A Path of Roses and Thorns._

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. 

September 2006


	2. A Matter of Priorities

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2006.

This is the 50th story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**A Matter of Priorities**

Following the information sign that said, "Vance University", Jane slipped the minivan she was driving onto the interstate exit. She said over her shoulder to the four passengers behind, "You know, we're all going to feel like hell in the morning."

Curled up in the arms of her boyfriend, Derek, Karen said, "Not as bad as some of the 'responsible adults' at Amy's bachelorette party." 

Seated in the back seat with Michael, Daria pictured several of her aunt's fellow Tennyson University faculty members and grad students as they threw aside the slightest attempt at decorum to offer crass bribes to the waiters for various extra services. She said, "After seeing her coworkers and students, it makes me afraid of what Raft's faculty really must be like."

Michael said, "At least we didn't come off too badly this time, right Mike?"

From the front passenger seat, Mack grunted, thumped his chest and said, "Ungh. We learn lesson. Evolve to Neanderthal."

Derek said, "I'm not going to make any more snide remarks about how much booze pilots can hold. Reese's air force buddies could put it away."

Mack chuckled and said, "They'd drink my fraternity brothers under the table…and then dance on top of it."

Remembering the image of the wedding's best man and several of his buddies line dancing like showgirls while singing the _Air Force Anthem_ caused Michael to squeeze his eyes shut. "I was hoping to burn that image from my memory."

Picturing her roommates on the small stage of the party's rented ballroom, Karen giggled and said, "I'll never forget Jane and Daria singing a duet."

Jane stopped the van for a traffic light and tried to shake the image of her and Daria playing air guitar. "Whoever brought that karaoke machine should be shot."

"And I wonder who brought a CD copy of _Freakin' Friends_ to the party…" Daria said, with her eyes glaring holes in the back of Karen's head.

"It didn't take that many wine coolers to bring out the party girl in you," Karen shot back. "Hate to see you under the influence of Great Uncle Rick's corn liquor and paint remover."

Mack said, "Karen, I heard that one of your stories made a big…splash…"

Mentally seeing Mrs. Wyatt trying to accomplish a hasty, but still dignified, escape to the bathroom caused Daria to chuckle. "Making the mother of the groom sick is generally considered to be something not done in polite society." 

"Hey!" Karen retorted. "She asked how I broke my arm last summer. I was only trying to explain the procedure old Doc Westerman was doing to that horse…"

"I think the problem was the graphic detail," Jane said and started the van forward after the traffic light changed to green.

"I toned it down."

"And Amy made sure you gave her the unaltered version, 'for future use,'" Daria said.

"Yep. I have a feeling that those two are in for some interesting times," Karen agreed.

Sporting a smirking, half smile, Mack said, "Can you imagine how much this whole weekend would've blown the minds of our old high school classmates?"

* * *

Quinn looked through the crowd gathered at the airport terminal and found Fran waving. Rolling her carryon suitcase behind, she hurried over and hugged her friend. "Thanks for picking me up."

"No problem. How'd the big wedding go?"

Quinn giggled and said, "Oh, my God! Talk about a fairy tale wedding." She swung a small, purse-like case to easy reach and removed a digital camera. "Take a look. That's not all; I had to send somebody out to buy a new memory thing when I filled up the first one." 

Fran looked at the images on the camera's small display screen as they walked to baggage claim. "Wow. Everything is so beautiful."

"It was incredible."

"I recognize you, your sister and your mother, and that one must be Amy. Who are the rest?"

"Oh, they lined up all of the girls in the bride's family. Daria's boyfriend took the picture for me. That's Aunt Rita, Grandma Tess, and my cousin Erin." 

"Damn, girl. Setting up for that shot must've turned every guy's head in the room."

"Yeah, we got a lot of attention."

On another image, Fran asked, "Who's this with your sister?"

"Her roommates." Quinn pointed. "That's Jane and that's Karen."

Flipping through several more images, Fran stopped in surprise. "He was at the wedding!"

"Mrs. Wyatt knows a lot of people."

"I am sooo jealous. You know I love that show."

"I got an autograph for you. It's in my carryon."

Fran hopped and clapped. "Thank you!" 

Quinn playfully shouldered Fran. "I got a kiss." 

She lightly slapped Quinn in return. "Rub it in."

* * *

Pleased with both her daughters, Helen set a hinged, double picture frame on her dresser and turned to Jake, already settling into bed. "Amy is in for some big lifestyle changes, marrying someone with two little girls."

Jake said, "They were such little darlings."

"So were Daria and Quinn, at four. Can you imagine dealing with our children if they were just now entering their teens? That's what Amy's going to deal with."

"Eep!" 

Helen crossed the room to her side of the bed. "I'm sure she's going to have much worse to say from time to time." 

After his wife sat down, Jake said, "Sure they drove us a little batty, but look at how well Daria and Quinn came out." 

"I sometimes wonder how. Looking back, we missed so much of their lives. Now, we have this big house all to ourselves. I wish I had more time to spend with our little ones."

Jake put his arm around Helen. "I miss them, too."

* * *

Letting out three sharp meows, Bump bounced across the living room when Daria opened the apartment door. She looked at the cat and said, "Don't give me that, I know Mrs. Lyndon took good care of you while we were gone."

Next in the door, Karen said, "I can't believe that to make sure that Bump didn't miss her 'Fish Day', you bought a small pack of salmon for Mrs. Lyndon to feed her this morning."

"You said it's important to keep familiar routines for a pet," Daria answered.

"Daria, you just spoil the cat," Jane said.

"So?"

"I feel sorry for your kids," Karen said, going into her room to toss her suitcase on the bed.

Carrying luggage to her room, Daria said, "I believe in spoiling cats; it's much less trouble and mess than children. Plus, it avoids all the pain and inconvenience of childbirth."

After Daria closed the door, Karen shook her head and said, "I bet she would be a good mother, if she gives herself a chance."

"I bet you're right," Jane said, leaning on her door frame. "But I think that aunt is the role she's going to be happier with."

* * *

"Break time, let's get out of here for a few minutes," Shelly said to Daria as she rolled her chair back from her workstation.

Daria saved and closed the document she was proofreading and also rolled her chair back. "Okay."

They joined several other staff members heading outside to enjoy the pleasant September afternoon, instead of the cramped break room inside. Shelly asked, "So, did the weekend festivities give you any ideas?"

"It gave me several ideas," Daria said, evading what she knew Shelly was really asking about.

"What about your boyfriend? He get any ideas?"

"None that I'm going to tell you about."

As they exited the building, Daria withdrew a cell phone from her pocket and turned it on. "Don't say I'm turning into my mother. Michael was supposed to leave a message to let me know his work schedule this week, so we can plan things." 

"I was going to say that you're turning into a regular college student. Why would I say you're turning into your mother?" 

"Oh, because she almost lives on hers. Hmm, two messages."

Daria tapped out her password and listened to a message from Michael. "Hi. I've got two to six Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday and then eight to five on Saturday. Lewis told me about a new French place about ten minutes from campus. The accents are outrageous, but the food is good. How's that sound for lunch tomorrow? Think it over and give me a call tonight. I love you. Bye."

"Judging from your smile, he must have a good schedule for the week," Shelly said.

Daria sighed and said, "Yes, and we're going to check out a new restaurant tomorrow for lunch. But, there's a second message; he must've forgotten something."

Daria pressed a button to hear the next message. The voice said, "Daria, this is Marianne, your mother's secretary. Please call me at her office as soon as possible. It's…urgent."

Daria swallowed hard and pressed the speed dial for the phone number. When Shelly started to say, "What?" Daria waved her off.

At the law office, Marianne quickly answered the phone when she saw the Caller ID display. Breaking with protocol, she said, "Thank God you got the message." 

"Marianne, what happened to Mom?"

The blonde secretary took a breath and said, "She collapsed during court and was taken to Cedars of Lawndale. Mr. Schrecter told me that the paramedics were treating her for a stroke."

Daria stepped back against the building wall for support.

Marianne continued, "Your father is with Helen and I told him that I'd contact you and your sister."

Daria barely found her voice. "Any word on how Mom's doing?"

"She's in ICU and hasn't woken up yet. I'm sorry I don't know more." 

Shelly placed a hand on Daria's shoulder and waited with patient concern.

"How's Dad?"

"He's…worried." 

"Quinn?"

"She's trying to get a flight back."

"I'll try to get one, too. If not, I'll drive."

"I'll tell your father."

"Thanks." 

"Daria, I know your family is not very religious, but I'll say a prayer for Helen, if you don't mind."

"Oh, um, no, sure."

"I'll let you know if I hear anything."

"Thanks, Marianne."

"Drive carefully, Daria."

"I will. Bye."

Shelly said, "That didn't sound good."

"My mom's in the hospital."

"I'm sorry. Anything I can do?" 

"Turn my computer off? I'm going in to talk to Dr. Findlay."

"I'll get it for you."

* * *

Dr. Findlay raised an eyebrow before saying, "Your mother's had a stroke and you need to drive down to Maryland to be with her. On the Monday after you took Friday off to attend your aunt's wedding."

Still shaken from the news, Daria leaned on his desk. "Exactly. Dr. Findlay, I didn't come in here to ask permission to go. I came, as a courtesy, to let you know that I'm going."

"If you place a higher priority on having an extra day or two off…" 

"You're right; this is a matter of priorities. Being with my mother is more important."

"I thought you enjoyed your work."

"Most of the time, I enjoy working here. It's a challenge and I've learned a lot." She sighed and stood up. "It's a long story, but I've learned not to place work too much ahead of family. Dr. Findlay, I'm going. I'm hoping you'll understand, but if not, I'll clean my desk out when I get back."

The editor leaned back in his chair and tapped a pen against his fingers. "What about your classes?" 

"Huh?"

"If you're going to Maryland, what are you doing about your classes?"

"I'll have to call my professors and arrange for notes. I'm sure I can borrow lecture tapes from some of the other students."

"Hmm. Okay, I believe you. You better get going."

"I…" 

"Go."

* * *

Quinn frantically looked at her computer screen while still talking on her cell phone. "Please? Can't you find anything sooner?"

Fran, Tammy and Grace waited patiently together for their sorority sister to get an answer.

Quinn listened for a few more seconds before sighing and saying, "Thanks. Sorry, I'm worried." She grabbed a pen and started writing on a scrap of paper. "9:05 tomorrow morning, Flight 1123. Got it. Bye."

Fran said, "Sounds like you found something."

"But not until tomorrow morning. I don't know if I can take the waiting." 

"We'll do what we can to help," Tammy said.

Grace ran out for a few moments and returned with a notebook. "Write down all your classes and stuff. We'll make sure somebody's there to take notes or whatever."

Fran told Quinn, "I know the way; I can drive you to the airport."

"You're great, guys."

* * *

As Bump nervously watched from the window sill, Daria threw items into a suitcase as she talked on her phone. "Your plane arrives at 7:15 tomorrow night? I'll make sure someone is there to pick you up."

Quinn replied, "If only I'd had a little more credit left on my card, I could've gotten an earlier flight."

"I wish I could've found a flight sooner, too. By the time you add in the flight time, baggage claim, renting a car and driving to Lawndale from the airport, it's faster to drive straight from here." 

"I'm scared."

"I'm worried too, Quinn, and I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything. If you don't hear from me, it's because nothing's changed and I haven't learned anything either."

Quinn softly said, "Okay." 

Following a knock, Michael's voice called into the apartment, "Daria!"

She covered the phone and replied, "In my room." Daria switched back to the phone, saying, "Michael's here and I've almost finished packing. I promise to call back." 

"Thanks. I love you, Daria."

"I love you, Quinn. Bye."

"Bye."

Daria closed the phone and wrapped her arms around Michael, burying her face against his chest. "Mrs. Blaine died from a stroke."

* * *

While Michael drove, Daria listened to her mother's doctor on the phone, "Helen's collapse was caused by a cerebrovascular accident, or more commonly, a stroke. We determined it was an embolic, meaning that an object from another part of the body blocked a cerebral artery. It responded to anticoagulant treatment, so we believe that it was a blood clot. We still need to determine the source of the clot."

Daria carefully asked, "Do you know if there was any damage?" 

"Your mother received prompt treatment. She's resting, breathing well on her own, and her heartbeat is regular. Beyond that, we don't know, but her odds are good. We'll have to run tests when she wakes up. But, we don't know when, and, you should be aware that there is a chance that she may not wake up at all."

Eyes closed in fear of the answer, Daria said, "As in, she might be in a persistent vegetative state?"

"That's a worst-case, but yes. Daria, the odds are very good that's not what's going to happen."

"Thank you, doctor." 

"You're welcome, Daria. Do you want to speak to your aunt again?"

"I'm okay, but tell her thanks for calling. Good bye."

Michael glanced to the side, afraid for her. "Daria?"

Switching the phone off, she reached for his hand, gripping it tight. "They got to her early, so that's a worse case scenario."

* * *

Quinn sat cross-legged on her bed, turning her cell phone over and over in her hands. "It was scary when Dad had his heart attack. But, nothing ever seemed to stop Mom or even slow her down."

Facing Quinn, Fran reached out to her friend's hands. "I know what you're going through with waiting and not knowing. After the accident, it was several days before they told me what happened to Mom and Dad and Donna."

"I'm sorry; you've been through so much worse."

"And there are people who've been through worse things than me. It doesn't lessen how much you're hurt and worried."

Tammy knocked and stuck her head in the door. "Quinn, just to let you know, the whole house pitched in and we're sending flowers to your mother. If you're up to it, I can show you on my computer the bouquet we ordered." 

Tearing up, Quinn said, "I wish I could be with Mom now. But since I can't, I'm glad I'm with all of you."

* * *

Jane sat on the sofa with Bump in her lap, slowly petting the cat. "Helen always seemed like a force of nature. It's hard to believe something like this happening."

"It'll make you think," Karen said, sitting on one of the living room chairs. "I'm learning how to care for animals when stuff like this happens, so I understand all the biology. But it does nothing to prepare you for when it happens to somebody you know."

"Considering all the not-so-safe places that my folks have traveled to, we were lucky nothing ever happened to them. I don't know what we could've done." 

"I'd freak out if something happened to Mom or Dad. Growing up on a farm, bad accidents were always possible. Being all the way up north, like this, makes me nervous at times."

"It's so weird. Our parents do stuff that's really dangerous, and then Daria's mom collapses in a courtroom."

Karen rolled out of the chair and headed for the dining room. "I'm going to call my parents."

"Don't take too long; I'd like to call mine…if I can track them down."

* * *

Daria was exhausted by the time that they finally reached Cedars of Lawndale hospital that night. She looked at her watch and said, "10:10. I hope that they at least let me in to see Mom for a few minutes." 

Michael walked around the car and clasped her hand. "I hope so, too."

Still holding Michael's hand tight, Daria stopped at the ICU nurse's station and said to the attendant, "I'm here to see my mother, Helen Morgendorffer."

"Name, please," the nurse said.

"Daria Morgendorffer." 

She checked a note. "Okay. It is after regular visiting hours, but I was informed you were on the way. We tend to bend the rules a little around here. She's in room IC-3." To Michael, she asked, "Husband?"

He faintly blushed and said, "Um, no. Boyfriend."

The nurse winked and said, "Husband. But, we do enforce a policy of no more than two visitors at a time. Daria, your father and grandmother are in there now and your aunt is in the waiting room. I suggest that you go in first."

"I understand," Michael replied. To Daria, he said, "Go on in, I'll be right there if you need anything."

Reluctantly, Daria released his hand. At a loss for words, she smiled in gratitude and nodded before moving a curtain aside to go into her mother's room.

Inside, Helen peacefully rested with Jake on one side and her mother on the other. Jake was the first to look up. "Daria, you made it."

She embraced him and said, "I got here as fast as I could."

Tess stood and said, "It's good to see you. Did you drive down alone?"

"The nurse said family only, so Michael's in the waiting room." 

Patting the chair, Tess said, "You can have my seat. I need to step out for a minute."

"Thanks, Grandma." 

Tess stepped out of the room, looking back briefly at father and daughter before closing the door.

Daria's father seemed to have aged ten years since she'd seen him the day before. She asked, "How are you holding up, Dad?"

With one of Helen's hands held within both of his, Jake said, "I don't know."

* * *

"Damn, damn, damn, Amy. This is not a time for your tricks," Rita said to her phone, not noticing Michael enter the waiting room.

He said, "Rita?"

She spun around. "Oh! Oh, Michael. You startled me."

"I'm sorry. Daria and I just got here. She's in with her mother."

Rita held up her phone. "I can't get a hold of Amy. Neither she nor Reese are answering their phones."

"They might have them turned off. Have you tried the hotel they're staying in?"

"That's why I'm mad at Amy's tricks. They're not at the hotel she told everyone they were spending their honeymoon at."

"Oh." 

"Amy…Amy always had her own way of doing things. A bit like Daria, from what I understand."

"Daria is her own person."

Rita gazed in the direction of Helen's room and she fought back tears. "I don't remember; do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"A sister. Gina turned seventeen last week."

"Do you get along with each other?"

"We tease a lot and have had some good fights, but overall, I'd say pretty good."

Rita struggled with her emotions, sucking on her lower lip. "Helen really likes you. She talks about you and Daria as if you were already family."

"That's Rita's idea of a hint," Tess said from the door. "Good evening, young man."

"Hi, Mrs. Barksdale," Michael answered.

Tess sat next to Michael and opposite Rita. "I'm relieved Daria didn't make the trip alone."

"It, uh, felt like the right thing to do. She's worried."

"Rita, any luck with Amy?" Tess inquired.

Rita shook her head. "No, Mother." 

An audible gurgle made Tess look at Michael. "Did you and Daria have dinner?"

"No, ma'am. We were more concerned with getting here and didn't think about it."

"Rita, will you please be a dear and find some dinner for these two down at the snack bar?"

"Sure, Mother." Rita asked, "Michael, do you have any preferences?"

"Not really. I doubt if Daria has any, either."

Rita picked up her purse and said, "I'll be back in a little while. I'll pick up something for Jake, too. Just in case we can coax him into eating something."

"Thank you, dear."

Tess and Michael sat in uncertain silence. She studied the young man learning forward with elbows on knees, rubbing his hands together, and thought of another young man she'd met over thirty years earlier. The young man her oldest daughter had brought home from college.

"I owe Jake an apology," Tess faintly said.

"What was that?"

"I owe Jake an apology. From the beginning, I thought he wasn't good enough for Helen. But, they've been together for as long as Simon and I were together." Tess nodded her head toward Helen's room. "Jake hasn't left her side all night. Sure, Helen could've found somebody 'better', but I don't think she could've found somebody more dedicated."

* * *

Daria had moved the second chair next to her father's and was seated with his head resting on her shoulder and her arm around his. Jake continued to gently hold Helen's hand, the physical contact just as important to him as it was hours earlier.

"Daria?"

"Yes, Dad?"

"I miss sitting at the table and reading the paper with you."

"Me, too. I don't even get much of a chance to read the paper before leaving in the morning. I have to read it in bits and pieces during the day."

"That's too bad."

"I need to get back in the habit of reading it before I leave. I'll just have to get up a little earlier."

Jake lifted his head and looked at his wife's face. "That should be me."

"What, Dad?" 

"I'm the one that cheats on my diet and doesn't exercise like I'm supposed to. Helen always took care of herself. It's not supposed to happen."

"Dad, it's not your fault." 

"But it's not fair."

"No, it's not." 

Jake lifted one hand from Helen's and brushed her cheek. "She deserved someone better than me."

Daria thought for a few moments before saying anything. "Dad, Mom's an intelligent, confident woman who knows what she wants and how to get it." 

"She sure is, and I'm a rambling almost-success." 

"Dad…it seems to me that if Mom wanted to find somebody else, she would've."

"You should've seen the heads turn at Amy's wedding."

"But, I don't think she's looked and I'd guess that it's because she's not interested in looking."

"Uh…yeah."

"So, you must be the one Mom wants to be with and I'm sure she has what she feels are good reasons."

"She always liked the way I could…"

"Dad, there are some things a daughter should never learn about her parents."

For the first time in hours, Jake managed a slight smile. "No, kiddo, I suppose not."

* * *

Not particularly interested in the magazine in her hands, Rita looked over the top of it at Daria curled up under Michael's arm. The paper wrappers of vending machine sandwiches and empty soda cups from their dinner were still on the low table in front of them. Above, the clock said that it was after midnight.

A stab of jealousy caused Rita to fidget as the geeky-looking young man gently stroked Daria's hair. She wished and hoped that her daughter Erin would find someone again. In the foreseeable future, Rita knew her personal life was inexorably tied up with her mother's, as it had been for years. They were dependent upon each other. However, Erin had broken the chain and made a new life, free of a man Rita had never liked, but also free from her. Knowing Erin's chances were better outside of her and her mother's shadow, the jealousy faded.

* * *

Wrapped in a bright yellow bath robe, Grace crossed the suite's darkened living room to the kitchen. "Don't you think you should get some sleep?"

Seated on the sofa with her legs pulled under her, Quinn said, "Could you?"

Grace stopped. "I guess not."

Quinn patted her phone, next to her on the sofa arm. "Besides, Daria promised to call if they hear anything new."

Dressed in a nightshirt and with her hair pulled into a ponytail, Fran came in and planted herself on the sofa. "I'll keep you company."

"Fran…"

"You know you don't want to be alone."

"In for a penny…" Tammy said as she entered, wearing shorts and a half t-shirt. "We'll all stay up."

Grace shrugged and joined them, carrying a diet soda. "I don't think sleeping's going to be an option."

* * *

Michael stepped into Helen's room and said, "Mrs. Morgendorffer has always been kind to me. I'd like to spend a little time with her, also." 

It took two attempts for Tess to rise from her seat. "Of course, young man."

He said, "Are you okay?" 

Tess tapped his shoulder as she walked past. "I am getting a little old for this, but I'll make it."

"Michael," Jake said with a slight nod.

The young man sat in the vacated chair. "Hi. I don't really have any experience with anything like this." He looked at Helen's face and added, "I hope you get better, soon."

Jake said, "She appreciates it, son."

Michael's chest tightened as he sat beside the hospital bed. The thought of his mother, or of Daria, in Helen's placed filled him with dread and made him confront, for the first time, the idea that those he loved were mortal.

Tess stopped outside Helen's room to listen to the eerie, early morning quiet of the hospital. Only the faint sounds of medical devices in the ICU and the pen scratching of the duty nurse doing paperwork broke the silence. She and Jake were at peace for the first time. Nothing more would ever be said, nor needed to be.

* * *

When Michael entered the waiting room, Rita was curled on one chair, asleep. Tess looked up with one eye from her old magazine and Daria yawned as she stood up. He said, "Your dad wanted some time alone with your mother."

When Daria hugged him, he noticed the clock and said, "If we were back in Boston, it would almost be time for my alarm to go off."

She turned and looked also. "We've been up all night. No wonder I feel so tired."

"Why don't I try to find some coffee?" Michael asked.

Daria said, "Yes, please."

"I know how you like yours. Mrs. Barksdale, would you like some coffee?"

"Oh, thank you, young man. About a quarter full of cream, or whatever dreadful stuff they have instead, and two sugars, please."

* * *

"I love you, Helen," Jake whispered.

Labored and slow, Helen said, "Jake?"

"Helen!" Jake shouted, jumping up at the same time.

"Don't shout," she struggled to say.

Hearing her father's shout, Daria spilled her remaining coffee as she rushed to the room. "Mom!"

"Daria?" Helen blinked and tried to focus. "Where?"

"You're in the hospital, Mom."

"Hospital?" Looking down at the hand Jake held, she said, "It won't move." 

Daria picked up Helen's other hand. "Mom, you had a stroke yesterday."

Alarmed, Helen squeezed Daria's in return. "Stroke?"

The duty nurse pulled the room curtain back and said, "Excuse me, is Mrs. Morgendorffer awake?" 

Jake vigorously nodded. "Yes!"

"It sounded like it." She stood behind Jake and placed her hands on his shoulders to start directing him out of the room. "Sir, I've called the doctor on duty and he'll be here shortly. We need both of you to please wait outside while we check your wife's condition. I promise that we'll let you back in as soon as possible."

Daria said, "The doctors can give you better details than I can, Mom. Come on, Dad. The sooner they can check on Mom, the sooner we can see her again."

Jake said, "Don't worry; I'll be right back, Helen."

The nurse reassuringly told Helen, "We'll be as fast as we can."

"Better," Helen said, with a hint of her old firmness.

Michael, Rita and Tess met them just outside the waiting room. Tess said, "Helen's awake?" 

"She's awake," Jake confirmed.

"Mom's speech is slow," Daria said. "And, she couldn't move her left hand. The nurse said that they'll check her condition and let us back in as soon as possible."

* * *

"Daria?!" Quinn asked after flipping the phone open in the dark. "Oh my God! Is Mom…?"

Fran, Grace and Tammy jumped at hearing Quinn's exclamation.

Daria said, "Mom woke up a few minutes ago."

"Oh! Oh, thank goodness. She's okay?" 

"Mostly, it looks like."

"Mostly?" 

"Mom's having some problems. We don't know if they are temporary or not. The doctor's just finished looking at her." 

"Problems?"

"She's having trouble speaking, and…and she might have some paralysis on her left side." 

"Oh God, I thought you said she was okay." 

"Quinn, all night, I've been afraid she wouldn't wake up."

"I'm sorry, I haven't slept either. It's…well, you're there and I haven't been able to see or talk to her." 

"They're letting us back in. Grandma and Aunt Rita are with Mom right now."

"Can you bring the phone in for me to talk to Mom?"

"I can do that." 

"Thanks, that would be great."

A couple minutes later, Daria and Michael went in. The bed had been adjusted so that Helen was sitting slightly upright. Her voice was still slurred when she said, "Daria, Michael."

"Hi, Mrs. Morgendorffer," he said. "I hope you don't mind that I came along."

Her smile was uneven as the left side of her face barely responded.

"Told you we'd be back." Daria held her cell phone close to Helen's ear. "And, Quinn would like to talk to you."

"Quinn?"

"Mo-om! I was so worried!"

"I'm sorry. I'll be better even…tu…" Frustrated at being unable to finish the word, Helen said, "…in time."

"Mom…?" 

"Won't stop me."

"Promise?" 

"Promise."

"Okay."

Daria said, "Mom…"

Helen slowly nodded and Daria took the phone back. "Quinn, we only have a short time with Mom. You'll need to say goodbye."

"Okay, Daria." 

She placed the phone back next to Helen, who said, "Bye, Quinn."

"Bye, Mom."

Reclaiming the phone, Daria said, "Goodbye, Quinn."

"Thanks a million, Daria. Bye."

Daria closed the phone and pocketed it. "I'm so relieved to talk to you."

Trying for humor, Helen said, "A first."

That prompted a short laugh from Daria. "Good one."

"Thanks, sweetie."

"For what?"

"Being here."

* * *

The doctor brought Jake out of Helen's room and addressed the family. "You've been here all night, and must be exhausted. We need to run tests to determine the extent of the damage that occurred, and we still need to find the source of the clot that caused the stroke. Since you can't be with Helen during the tests, I recommend that you go home and get some rest. All of you. We should be done by about three this afternoon, or so. I'm sure she'll be glad to see you then." 

Tess said, "Yes, doctor. Jake, may Rita and I please stay in your guest room?"

"Oh, oh, of course," 

"Then, we better get out of the way and let this gentleman do his work."

* * *

The sun had barely risen when they left the hospital for the short drive to Jake and Helen's home. Michael was struggling to stay awake as he parked his car behind Rita's. Jake had already opened the door as Tess and Rita carried overnight bags inside. They all moved mechanically as they separated to the different rooms and prepared to get some rest.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Michael saw Tess, and was suddenly self-conscious of making the short walk to Daria's room. Tess quietly told him, "My granddaughter should be with the man she loves at a time like this. It's the right thing to do."

He nodded once in appreciation and went on his way. Inside, Daria was already in a black nightgown and she embraced him immediately.

"Thank you so much," she said. "I don't know how I would've made it without you."

He held her in return. "You're so very welcome."

They separated after a long, soft kiss. Michael said, "I think the doctor had a good idea. Sleep." 

"Go ahead, I want to write in my diary a little," Daria said.

"Sure, I understand." Michael crawled into the bed and closed his eyes.

Daria pulled her hand-made, leather-bound diary from the suitcase and opened it on the desk. After taking a silver fountain pen from a slender box, she looked back at Michael. Picking up the book and pen, she left the desk and climbed onto the bed next to him, sitting up against a pillow. She pulled the sheets over her legs and said, "I also want to stay close to you."

"No problem," he sleepily said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"I won't take long." She started to write:

_September 11_

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

October, 2006


	3. Mirrors

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2006.

This is the fifty-first story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Mirrors**

Sitting up in bed, Helen looked into a hand mirror and willed her face to smile. The right side of her mouth responded instantly, but the left corner raised only a tiny fraction of an inch. Frustration crossed her face, erasing the half-smile. Determined, she tried again, and failed.

Tears blurred Helen's vision as she placed the mirror on a nightstand and looked around the new bedroom. Up until a couple weeks earlier, it had been the dining room. The sideboard and china cabinet had been moved to the kitchen, while the formal table and chairs now resided in the garage. Bed and dressers replaced them.

On the other side of the door, she could hear a muffled clatter from the kitchen as Jake worked on breakfast. "Ah! It's not supposed to splash like that!" he shouted. Helen winced, thinking about what disaster must be transpiring as her husband attempted, again, to make her whole wheat pancake recipe. As much as she wanted to call out to discover what was happening, she resisted. Jake would drop everything to check on her if she did. Too often, the term "drop" was literal, and a bowl of pancake batter would make a huge mess on the floor.

"Here you go, Helen!" Jake announced half an hour later, entering the room carrying a tray. He placed it over her lap and said, "Breakfast is served."

Two perfectly round whole wheat pancakes, toast, a small pat of butter and a tiny pitcher of syrup were on the plate. Alongside was a tall glass of orange juice. Helen nodded. _Microwave pancakes, it would be so much easier for him just to stick with them, but he keeps trying._ Her voice was still slow and slightly slurred when she said, "Thanks, Jakey. But you don't have to keep doing this."

"It's no problem, Helen."

"Jake…I want to eat breakfast in the kitchen." _Breakfast in bed makes me feel like an invalid._

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Jake. And, I want to get there on my own. Can you carry the tray, please?"

"Oh, sure honey."

Jake lifted the tray and stepped back toward the kitchen while apprehensively looking at Helen. She swung her right leg off the bed, twisting as her left leg remained unmoved. Left arm resting in her lap, she then reached across with her right hand and pulled her left leg over. Pushing with her right arm, she stood on her right leg and managed a brief, twisting hop to turn around before sitting down in a wheelchair. After tugging her left leg into place and adjusting her nightgown, Helen gently pushed a control lever forward and the chair's motors hummed to life, slowly moving her around the bed. _The insurance company can gripe all they want. I will not be dependent on somebody else to move me around my home._

Jake led the way, pausing at the door to gulp before going forward. Helen quickly saw the reason for the gulp; at least a dozen bowls of different sizes were piled on the counter next to the stove. All of them were covered with drips and splatters of pancake batter, while a dusting of light brown wheat flour covered almost everything else. She did her best to ignore the mess and roll to the table, where Jake was transferring her breakfast. "Better."

"Great!" Jake said and grabbed his breakfast from the counter, sitting next to Helen. "Um, sorry about the mess. You made it look so easy."

"You'll get the hang of it."

"You bet!"

"But Jake…"

"Yes?"

"Why don't you skip trying while Amy and Daria are here this weekend?" Uneven, she pointed her head toward the bowls. "Just to be on the safe side."

Sounding a little hurt, Jake said, "Will do, Helen."

"And start again on Monday."

Heartened, he replied, "I can do that!"

* * *

Sitting on an exam table, Daria patiently waited while the school clinic's doctor examined her test results. In time, he said, "With their eating habits, many college students tend to have unhealthy blood cholesterol profiles, and yours is at the wrong end of that spectrum. In light of the family background you provided, I'm more concerned than usual." 

"All things considered, I'm not surprised," Daria said. "That's why I came in."

"You can also stand to lose a little weight, five to ten pounds. My preference, especially considering your age, is to address this with lifestyle adjustments: reduced fat intake, particularly saturated fat, reduced cholesterol intake, and exercise."

"Great." Daria sighed. "Carrot and celery sticks. My life is complete."

The doctor coughed for effect. "I don't want you going onto some extreme diet or anything. I said reduce, not eliminate. The idea is to develop eating habits that you can sustain."

"That's a relief, I think."

"And, I'd rather not see you lose more than ten pounds. With your small frame, that should be enough."

"I, uh, have gained more than that since starting college."

"I'm sure you still have some visible body fat, but I'm not worried about it. A ten pound loss will put you at a healthy weight for your height and build. And then, with appropriate eating habits and exercise, it will be a good weight for you to maintain."

"Exercise. Jane and Karen are going to have a field day with that."

"Friends?"

"And roommates."

"Ah. Don't let them tease you into not doing what you need to do."

"Jane ran in the last Boston Marathon and Karen can lift a calf. They are so going to enjoy getting me into shape."

"Then you're one lucky girl."

* * *

Cell phone in hand and seated on a circular bench under a palm tree, Quinn said to her mother, "Yes, Mom, I got the credit card mess fixed. It's not like I was the one who cancelled my flight or anything." 

Sitting in the wheelchair near the sliding glass doors in the kitchen, Helen watched a mockingbird chasing a squirrel away from the bird feeder Jake and Michael had installed the previous weekend. "Good. You can't let those people see the slightest sign of weakness. I'm glad you're standing up for yourself."

"I still wish I'd been able to see you in the hospital."

"I know, dear, but your daily calls cheer me up."

"Thanks, but tell Daria I'm jealous that she gets to see you every weekend."

The playful teasing of one daughter by the other lifted Helen's mood. "I'll make sure she knows."

"You better." Seeing a muscular, blond young man trot up carrying a paper bag and a drink cup, Quinn said, "Hold on a second, my lunch just arrived."

"Here you are, Quinn. A southwest veggie wrap and diet soda," the man said, placing the meal on the bench next to Quinn.

"That's so sweet, Jason. Thanks."

"Any time, Quinn."

She pointed to her phone, "Please? I'm talking to my mother."

"No problem. Seeya later."

"Bye."

She waved as the man trotted away and held the phone with her shoulder as she opened her lunch. "Back, Mom."

"I thought you said you were on the plaza. How did you get someplace to deliver?"

"Oh, a nice boy ran across the street for me."

"I see some things haven't changed."

"Hey."

"Gotcha." With some effort, Helen looked over to the wall clock. "Quinn, my physical therapist will be here soon. Thanks for calling."

"No problem, Mom. Talk to you tomorrow."

"I look forward to it."

"I love you, good bye."

"I love you. Bye, honey."

Quinn closed her phone and slowly finished opening the wrapper on her lunch. "I miss you, Mommy."

* * *

"Gah! Where'd it get off to?" Jake asked, hearing the electronic ring of a cell phone and desperately looking on the kitchen counter. 

Helen said, "On the coffee table, Jake."

He hurried into the living room and picked up the phone, taking two tries to turn it on. "Morgendorffer Consulting."

Listening and nodding, Jake fumbled through a small date book that was also on the coffee table. "Okay, 12:45 is good for me. I'll meet you at my office. Have a nice day."

He stared at the phone for a couple seconds and then turned it off. "I have a client."

"I heard," Helen replied. "Nancy will be here at 12:30, and Marianne will stop by about 1:30, so I'll be okay. If I need anything before you get home, I can call Amanda and Lindy."

"Okay, honey. I'll be back as soon as I can."

* * *

A stocky woman in pink surgical scrubs supported Helen's left arm with one hand and pressed the other against Helen's hand as she pressed back. "That's good." 

Resting on the bed, Helen said, "It is?"

"It's going to take time for your brain to find new pathways, but you're making good progress."

"Doesn't feel like it, Nancy."

"A lot of stroke patients don't make the progress you've already made. Enough for the arm, time to work on your leg."

She shifted her chair and lifted Helen's left leg, flexing it at the knee and hip, and then rotating the ankle. She placed it down and said, "Okay Helen, move your foot."

Concentrating hard, Helen succeeded in moving her toes back and forth about an inch. Nancy said, "Good, good. Now, try bending your knee."

Lightly biting her lower lip, Helen nodded and closed her eyes. Moments later, her knee slowly rose a couple inches.

Nancy smiled wide and said, "Wow. That's a big improvement."

Helen opened her eyes and said, "That felt like something, at least."

"If you can keep up this progress, we might get you on your feet soon."

"No might about it…I will be on my feet as soon as I can."

"Keep it up; I like my patients to have an attitude."

"You haven't seen me in a courtroom."

* * *

Jake hurried to his office door. A sign attached just below "Morgendorffer Consulting" read, "Office hours by appointment only." He unlocked the door and entered, going directly to his desk and sitting. He placed a finger on a checklist taped on the front of a drawer and read it. Moving slowly as he remembered the order, he picked up his phone and cancelled the call-forward. Pleased, he smiled to himself and said aloud, "There, I'm starting to get the hang of it." 

He spent several minutes organizing and reorganizing papers until his client entered. He rose and extended his hand, "Come on in, Bert. I have some great new ideas for you."

Glancing back at the door sign, the trim, middle-aged black businessman said, "Appointment only? Getting that much business?"

Focused on Helen's photo on his desk, Jake sighed and said, "Helen's ill and I've been splitting my time between here and home."

"Aw, man. That's rough. Good thing you're the boss, so you can take off the time you need."

"Makes starting my own business worth it," Jake said, and feeling it to the core. All of the setbacks, failures and frustrations of the last years were a small price to pay for not having to explain his time off to someone like the sadistic boss he had in Highland.

"I bet. Helen sure is lucky. So, what do you have for me?"

Jake opened a folder. "I thought we could build on what Jodie set up for your summer sale."

"Great idea! Hey, is she back in school?"

"Yes."

"She graduates in a year or two, right?"

"Two, same as my oldest daughter."

"That Jodie's a real go-getter, like her old man. You know, Jake, when she graduates, I bet that if you wanted to retire early, you could sell this business to her for a nice little nest egg."

Jake thought for a moment before saying, "I'm a little too young to retire."

* * *

"Please don't take this wrong, Helen, but it feels strange seeing you in casual clothes," Marianne said, seated on one of the sofas the Morgendorffer's living room. 

"To be honest, it feels good not having to squeeze into panty hose every day," Helen said, sitting in her wheelchair at the spot that one of the sofa pieces formerly inhabited.

"Not that I object to seeing you, but are you sure you want to look over these papers?"

"Marianne, daytime television is atrocious and I can only read so many bestsellers a week. Staying in touch keeps my mind active."

"I'm only worried. The way the other partners joked about you really fitting in 'as one of the gang' by having your stroke was creepy."

"But, I don't have my golf-buddy cardiologist on speed-dial. At least the hormone replacement is keeping those damn hot flashes in check. Dealing with them at the same time as this would drive me nuts."

Marianne cautiously laughed. "The other partners would completely fall apart if they experienced even one hot flash."

"Don't you know it."

"Uh…have they figured out what caused your stroke?"

"Not yet. As far as the doctors can tell, it shouldn't have happened."

* * *

"Freakin', crying out loud! I knew this would happen," Daria exclaimed to her smirking roommates. 

"Come on, Daria, how could we resist?" Jane replied. "Seriously, though, you can join me running."

"And drop dead from exhaustion trying to keep up with you? I'll pass."

Karen said, "We helped you through things as a freshman; we'll help you now."

Daria shook her head. "But you'll still have some fun in the process."

Karen winked. "We've earned it."

"I will pay you back."

Jane said, "Yeah, yeah."

Karen put one arm around Daria. "What happened to your Mom spooked all of us. Jane and I talked to our parents most of that first night she was in the hospital. You know that joking helps us deal, right?"

"Yes, I know, and I appreciate the support."

"So…when do we order the cheeseless pizza?" Jane asked, quickly stepping back.

Daria glared at Jane. "But, I may still have to kill you."

* * *

Sitting on a towel, Quinn watched rolling surf that glinted silver from moonlight and the city lights behind her. The beach was quiet for the moment, with the sun worshipers gone and the nighttime partiers not yet arrived. "I bet you would like this view, Mom," she said to the breaking waves. 

A sandpiper landed along the surf's edge and started hunting for interesting morsels as it dodged back and forth with the shifting water. Alone with it, Quinn watched the small bird intently. The almost comical blur of its short, fast-moving legs fascinated Quinn and allowed her mind a respite from worry.

Since returning to California, the beach had become one of Quinn's favorite places and seemed able to meet her many moods. Sunbathing, socializing or playing during the day, parties and fun at night, and in between, these interludes of quiet. Oddly, she felt the separation from her family, while simultaneously a sense of belonging that she hadn't known before.

"Ah-ha, there you are," Fran said from behind.

Quinn twisted around to see Fran with Tammy and Grace. Tammy said, "We're heading over to Pacific Coast Smoothie and thought you might want to come with us."

"Yeah, PCS has a new band playing tonight," Grace said. "The lead singer's supposed to be cute."

A booming bass note sounded from a portable stereo somewhere down the beach. Quinn stood and picked up her towel. "Cute, huh?"

* * *

Later, all four were seated together at the smoothie bar when Fran flagged down their bartender and said, "Another Mango Supercharger, please." 

The man looked at Fran, somewhat surprised.

"Hey, I'm a big girl." She followed his gaze to her slight, less than 5 foot frame. "Okay, not that big, but I can handle it."

Quinn, Grace and Tammy all gave the waiter a look of, "Give her the drink and nobody gets hurt."

He quickly said, "Yes, ma'am," and hurried to mix the fruit concoction.

Fran turned her attention back to her friend. "I know you're feeling guilty about not seeing your mom, and I'm not trying to talk you out of it."

Quinn said over her carrot smoothie, "Good."

"Why don't you do something else that's special for her?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. What does she like?"

"She likes to work too much."

Grace said, "Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you invite them here for Thanksgiving?"

Quinn said, "Thanksgiving? You know I don't cook much."

Tammy said, "From what you've told us, neither does your mom. Deli turkey from California can't be that different from deli turkey in Maryland."

"What about my sister?"

Fran said, "No-one says she can't come. Or, she can do what you did last year and have Thanksgiving with her friends. All in all, I wouldn't mind meeting her."

* * *

Talking over the roof of her car early Saturday morning, Daria said, "I can't tell you how much I appreciate you coming along, but you don't have to." 

Michael shrugged, "Eh, it's my Mom's influence rubbing off. You know it's safer with two people to trade off driving on a long trip."

Daria smirked as she got into the driver's seat. "Even if one of them drives like a maniac?"

"Hey! I've gotten better. Haven't I?" Michael said as he entered and sat down.

"You're no longer terrifying…only scary."

"Well, that's a relief."

Daria started the car and backed out of her driveway. She couldn't resist saying, "Yes, it is."

"It's going to be a little crowded at your folks, isn't it?"

"They'll have room, barely. We'll be in my old room, Amy and Reese in the guest room and the kids will share Quinn's room."

"Is it safe to expose small children to that?"

"If they're blood-related to somebody whom Amy would marry, I'd say they are tough enough to face it and come out stronger."

* * *

Amy told the tall, red-haired man seated next to her in the car, "Reese, try…try to behave yourself." 

He reached over and picked up his new wife's hand, kissing it. "Don't worry; even I'm not that clueless."

"Pardon me if I wait for conclusive evidence to back that hypothesis."

Barely slowing, Amy directed the brand new, red sedan into the Morgendorffer driveway and came to a precise stop behind Helen's SUV.

Reese opened his door and stood. "With the way you drive, we really need to teach you to fly."

Amy picked up her small purse and exited the driver's seat, stepping back to open the rear door. "So you can share your macho pilot rituals with me? How generous."

Giggles came from twin, 4-year old blonde girls in the back seat as Reese opened the other door. He teasingly said, "I can see that Amy's setting a fine example for you two."

Jocelyn unbuckled herself from a child's car seat and hopped out next to her father. "She's not that bad, Daddy."

Next to Amy, Jerica also loosed herself and exited the car, saying "She's a keeper."

"And, I think we'll keep you two around," Amy replied.

Reese gently warned, "Girls, because Aunt Helen's been sick, she's going to sound a little different. Don't make fun of her."

After the twins agreed, Reese walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk, removing a couple of paper grocery bags. "I've got the goodies for Helen."

Amy stopped to give him a kiss. "Thanks."

"Hmm, maybe I should remember to do nice things like this on a regular basis."

Amy tugged on his waist to move them to the door. "That… would be a good idea."

Having followed her father, Jocelyn looked at her sister and said, "They're at it again."

Moments later, Jake opened the door to let them in. "Hey, Amy! Reese, my man. How are you?"

"We're doing fine, Jake," Amy said. "How is Helen?"

"Well enough to hear you!" she called from the living room.

Reese shook Jake's hand. "Nice to see you again."

Amy hurried across the room to her sister. Holding firmly onto the wheelchair with her right hand, Helen stood with her weight on her right leg.

"Careful, Helen," Amy warned.

"I can stand long enough to hug you, Amy," Helen warned.

"Deal." Amy said, embracing Helen.

Jake squatted to face the girls eye to eye. "And how are you two sweethearts?"

"Uncle Jake!" both shouted, excited about seeing their funny, new uncle.

Amy looked back and then said to Helen, "Hmm, maybe we found a backup babysitter for Grandma Wyatt."

Amy saw Helen briefly try to smile, and then force the gesture away before saying, "Maybe after I can get around a little better."

Leaving his daughters jabbering away at their new relative, Reese stepped inside and said, "We come bearing gifts; which way to the kitchen?"

Helen said, "Why, thank you. Just to your right, you can't miss it."

Helen carefully eased herself back into the wheelchair. "I still have to take things a little easy."

Amy sat on the sofa next to Helen. "I'm still sorry about the whole 'out of contact' thing. It really was aimed more at Reese's Air Force buddies. They threatened to buzz the hotel in F-15s, and from what I know of that bunch, they would."

"Outside of spoil your honeymoon, there's not much you could've done. I know Rita's still annoyed, but I'm glad it wasn't ruined for you." When Amy started to protest, Helen shushed her and finished, "Though I don't know if I'd have picked Key West over Kyoto."

* * *

In the kitchen, Amy set a stack of CDs on the table. "If you can't get to the Keys or the Caribbean any time soon, you can at least listen to some appropriate music." 

"I suppose it's better than 'Someone went to Key West and all I got was this lousy t-shirt,'" Helen said.

"Daria gets the t-shirt." Next, Amy started transferring the contents of a grocery bag to the refrigerator. "Everything you need for pina coladas, daiquiris and margaritas. To help with the mood. Thinking about the tropics and the islands is one way I deal when things pile up. I picture a cool drink and a sea breeze while island music plays."

"Amy..." Helen sighed and then acquiesced upon remembering a post card from Amy years before. "Okay."

"And finally…" Amy produced a small box of Swiss chocolates with _Sprungli_ engraved on the side. "Strictly for personal use only: complete, utter and sinful indulgence."

Leaning from the other side of the kitchen counter, Reese said, "Even I have to be on my very best behavior for her to share one with me. You're getting a whole box."

Amy winked at Reese and said, "At least I haven't asked you to fly a box over for me, yet."

"No, your evil twin Paula did."

"What?" Helen asked in surprise and a little indignation, thinking about how much a fighter jet would cost to fly across the Atlantic.

Reese said, "Long story, but it's how we met. I was flying back from Germany after my summer Air Guard duty, when the CO asked me to carry a box back in my personal gear and drop it off for Amy, as a favor for Paula…uh, Colonel Trainor."

Amy gave him a sly smile and placed the box in Helen's hand. "Never let anyone say that chocolate is bad for you."

* * *

"I thought you said Amy drove a cool little two-seater," Michael said, looking at Amy and Reese's car. 

"She does, but here isn't room for the munchkins in it," Daria said.

"Ah, that would explain the temporary tags; new car." Michael laughed as he handed Daria's keys back while they walked to the door. "Your aunt's driving a mom-mobile."

"Say that in front of Amy and I won't lift a finger to save you."

"You don't want to be my knight in shining armor?"

"I don't want my finger torn off."

"Oh yeah, it's hard to type with nine fingers."

Nearing the house door, she kissed his cheek and said, "Not to mention other things."

He returned the kiss and said, "Note to self; don't make fun of Amy's car."

The door was flung open before they reached it and the twins boiled out. "Daria!"

As the girls each grabbed Daria's legs in an embrace, she said to Michael, "It's amazing. A pair of four-year olds has no problem with my name, but every term, it usually takes a couple weeks to train some professors."

Reese followed his daughters and, with arms folded said, "You appear to have a fan club."

Daria carefully separated herself from the twins. "I've had bad experiences with fan clubs, Uncle Reese, but I might be interested in the job of evil mentor."

"I have dibs on that," Amy said, walking up behind Reese.

Reese stepped back and put his arm around Amy. "No, I think my mother got there first."

* * *

While Daria was in the kitchen getting a drink from the refrigerator, Amy and Helen sat in the living room as the twins watched television. Amy discreetly tilted her head toward Daria and said to Helen, "Now that I've had a little taste of parenthood, I know that you're luckier than I even thought before." 

Helen leaned forward and patted Amy's hand while nodding to Jerica and Jocelyn. "Give it a little time, and you'll feel like the lucky one. That is, when you don't want to kill them."

"I somehow suspect that I'm going to start wondering why our mother didn't kill all three of us."

Looking out of the window at Jake, Michael and Reese, Daria replied to the barely-heard comment. "If Grandma didn't kill Grandpa for the male bonding ritual of lighting the barbeque grill, she had enough patience not to kill you, Mom, or Aunt Rita."

Helen said, "After the Fultons were here last summer, I made Jake buy a gas grill and had the store assemble it. All he has to do is push a button to light it."

Daria paused for a last look before walking back to Amy and Helen. "I should be glad they're not chasing squirrels."

She placed her drink on the table and handed a second to Helen. "Here, Mom."

"You didn't have to, Daria."

"No problem, Mom."

Helen held in a soft sigh and said, "Thank you."

Outside, Jake said, "She won't let anyone know how hard this has been. A couple of times, I've seen Helen looking into a mirror and trying to smile like she used to. She was always the strong one."

"Like her sister and daughter," Reese said. "Not too many people would've been able to handle their maid of honor having to back out at literally the last minute, and not too many women could step into that job on such short notice."

Michael said, "Mr. Morgendorffer, don't sell yourself short. I was at the hospital, remember?"

"All I did was sit there with Helen."

"Like I said."

"And you were there for Daria."

"I see I have some tough acts to follow," Reese said. He tilted his head back, draining a beer bottle to cover the emptiness he felt for his daughters' deceased mother, and the vague sense of disloyalty for marrying Amy, though he knew it was the right thing to do. He set the empty bottle aside and added, "Michael, you live in Boston, so once you're old enough, you have no excuse for drinking bad beer."

* * *

Helen's attention drifted away from the adult conversation and onto the girls playing near the large, corner window of the living room. Jocelyn had an action figure in a white uniform, while Jerica played with a toy tiger. She could almost see Daria and Quinn as small children, when they would sometimes play together; Quinn with one of her dolls and Daria with a toy horse. Helen contemplated how much she missed those days. 

Amy flipped through her new copy of _Literature in Action_. "So, Melody's gone into retirement. What are you planning on writing next?"

"I'm not sure." Daria held up a t-shirt from a gift box. It sported a bearded portrait and the words, "Someone picked me up off of the floor of Hemingway's favorite bar." She asked, "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"It's a better version of 'Somebody went to Key West and all I got was this lousy t-shirt?'"

"Cool," Michael said, looking at a pewter coin. "A replica of one of the _Atocha _doubloons."

Following a brief clatter in the kitchen, Daria asked, "How is Dad's cooking these days?" When Helen didn't respond, Daria added, "Mom?"

"Oh? What was that, dear?"

"How is Dad's cooking these days?"

"Actually, he's getting better."

Michael said, "Then it's a good thing I'm not in there helping him."

Daria elbowed him. "You're getting better, too."

Amy faced Reese. "Thank goodness I don't have to teach you how to cook."

"No!" Jerica's voice pierced across the room. "You always do that!"

Jocelyn screamed back, "Do not!"

"Do, too!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

Reese said to Amy, "Be a good time to practice your new Mom skills."

Amy made a faux frown and said, "They're your sprouts, but okay." She crossed the room to the little girls. "That's enough, you two."

Seeing Helen massaging her temple, Daria asked, "Mom, are you all right?"

"Just remembering why I'm glad you're no longer that age."

* * *

Looking across the crowded dinner table at the sight of Helen picking up her cell phone, Daria said, "Mom, you really do have that thing surgically attached, don't you?" 

"It's Quinn. I won't take too long," Helen said, ignoring Daria's comment after reading the caller ID. She activated the phone and said, "Hello. How are you, Quinn?"

Back in the common room of her dorm suite, Quinn said, "Hi Mom, I'm great. Did Amy and Daria get there okay?"

"Yes honey, everyone's here."

"Great, say hi for me."

Helen waved the cell phone and mouthed, "Quinn says 'hi.'"

Quinn continued without pausing, "Mom, we were kind of talking. I mean by we, me and Fran and Tammy and Grace. Anyway, we were talking yesterday and thinking about how I haven't been able to do much for you and everything."

"Oh, Quinn."

"I mean, I know I call, but it's like, you know, not the same as seeing you."

"Quinn, you don't need to fly all the way back here just for a weekend."

"I know. That's why we were talking and stuff. Grace came up with the idea, and that got me thinking about how you went to see Daria last year for Thanksgiving and we thought that maybe you could come out here for Thanksgiving this year. You know, see Pepperhill and meet my friends."

"It might be a little hard for me to fly, Quinn."

"You're getting better, right Mom?"

"I am."

"Then maybe you can make it."

"You know, maybe I can. And, it would be fair."

"So, you will try?"

"No Quinn, we won't try. Jake and I will be there."

"Daria's welcome, too."

"I won't speak for her; you'll have to ask her yourself." Helen passed the phone to Daria.

Taking it, Daria said, "What's up, Quinn?"

The younger sister asked, "Do you want to come to California for Thanksgiving?"

Daria looked to her side. "Does that include Michael?"

"Of course!"

"We'll have to talk it over and look at costs. Can I call you back when we have a clue?"

"Sure Daria, just let me know. Can I talk to Amy?"

"If she's willing." Daria held the phone out to Amy. "Feeling up to it?"

"Why not?" Amy said, taking the phone. "Hi, Quinn."

"Hi, Amy. Have fun on your honeymoon?"

Amy smirked. "You could say that."

Quinn asked, "Good, now that everyone isn't listening, how do you bag a nice rich guy?"

"I don't believe you just asked me that."

Quinn giggled. "How could I resist?"

Catching the joke, Amy answered, while glancing at Reese, "You throw a big burlap sack over his head."

Quinn laughed and said, "Sounds easy, but burlap is so last year."

"I'm sure you'll find something up to date. Good hunting."

"Thanks, Amy. Can you say bye to everyone for me? Fashion Rescue is about to start."

"Sure. Bye, Quinn."

"Bye."

Amy passed the phone back to Helen and everyone started eating again.

Holding her phone under the edge of the table, Helen hit the "3" on her speed-dial. A second later, the cell phone in Daria's pocket rang. When she reached for it, Helen said, with a very Daria-like straight face, "Surgically attached?"

* * *

At breakfast the next morning, Daria stopped Jake from placing another strip of bacon on her plate and said, "That's good, Dad." 

"Are you sure? I made plenty. Just because you mother and I have to be careful, doesn't mean you can't enjoy."

Having to back away from her years of food-related defiance, Daria sighed and said, "I'm trying to be careful, too."

Helen said, "That's sweet, but it's okay, we can watch and enjoy vicariously."

"No, Mom. It's not just about making you feel better. I went in for a checkup and learned that I'm well on my way to repeating your health problems. So…I have to start being careful about what I eat."

Leaning her face against one hand and not yet fully awake, Amy said, "Welcome to the sisterhood. I'll teach you the secret handshake later."

Jake placed the skillet back on the stove. "That stinks, kiddo. You should be able to enjoy bacon in your youth."

Understanding what her daughter admitted and the maturity behind her decision, Helen reached across the table to grasp Daria's hand. "Thank you, sweetie."

* * *

Alone on her bed, Helen sat upright with her right hand holding the left at the wrist. Concentrating intently, she was able to make one finger at a time slowly lift and straighten. From one of Amy's gift CDs, Jimmy Buffet sang along with steel guitars: 

_Legal problems gettin' thick and hazy  
Look at the people gettin' rich and crazy  
Locked up in mansions on top of the hill  
Someone needs to tell them 'bout overkill _

Overkill, overkill  
Such a megalo modern problematic ill  
Climb too fast and shove too hard  
You'll be pushin' up the daisies in the old bone yard.

Next, she shifted her right hand to support the forearm and struggled to raise her hand at the wrist. She was startled out of her concentration by the cell phone ringing. Seeing the ID, she whispered, "Damn," and answered. "Hello, Eric."

After closing her eyes in annoyance, she said, "No, I haven't finished them yet. Eric, I've had guests this weekend, including the first time I've had a chance to see Amy since my stroke."

Helen listened to another longwinded exposition by Eric. Her attention drifted to the music and the end of a rap segment of the song:

_It ain't about the talent, it ain't about the skill  
It's all about the silly stupid horseshit deal!_

She held the phone away and looked at it, totally ignoring Eric's speech as she remembered Marianne's comment about the partners saying that the stroke made Helen "one of the gang." Helen brought the phone back and quietly said, "Eric, it's Sunday morning, I've barely finished breakfast and I'm doing my physical therapy exercises. I'll talk to you Monday. Maybe around noon. Good bye."

_Overkill, overkill  
Such a megalo modern problematic ill  
Climb too fast and shove too hard  
You'll be pushin' up the daisies in the old bone yard._

* * *

When Helen wheeled her way from the bedroom to the living room, she saw everyone occupied. The twins were riding on Michael's back as if he were a horse. Amy and Daria sat on one sofa, discussing a stack of books on the coffee table before them. Jake and Reese sat, one each, on the other two sofa sections, watching an old war movie on the TV. Reese kibitzed the aircraft sequences and demonstrated by "flying" his hands. 

Helen remembered a plea her friend Amanda had made a couple years earlier, after a family invasion. She then announced, "I want my house back."

Daria said, "Mom?"

Helen held up her strong hand. "I want my house back. Everyone has come here to help since I was discharged from the hospital: you Daria, Mother, Rita, even Ruth. I have a physical therapist come in three days a week and an RN once a week. Marianne drops stuff off from work every weekday."

Face darkened, Daria said, "Sorry, Mom. I was…"

"Daria, I'm not being ungrateful. Everyone has been wonderful. You really have. But, it's time for me to start regaining my life. Time to start regaining what's important." Turning her wheelchair around, Helen went back into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. "Amy, you were right, thinking about the islands helps. Now, do I want a pina colada or a daiquiri?"

* * *

While Reese made sure that the girls were secure within their car seats, Amy leaned against Daria's car and talked to her through the window. "I would say that Helen is over the hump and well on her way back." 

Daria thought for a moment, and then said, "Yeah, Mom's over the hump, but don't think she's on her way back. She's on her way forward, somewhere."

When Reese stepped over, Amy put her arm around his waist and looked through the car window at Daria and Michael. She said, "Now that you mention it, all of us are."

* * *

Jake opened the door and swept into an exaggerated bow. "Breakfast is served." 

"Yes, dear," Helen replied, setting the mirror in her lap and starting the wheelchair forward. She rolled to the table as Jake excitedly went to the counter and picked up two plates from what looked like the aftermath of a plane crash.

He returned and set a plate before Helen that contained two amoeba-shaped pancakes, alongside toast, butter and syrup. The cakes were softly browned and smelled wonderful. Helen poured a small puddle of syrup onto them as Jake sat down and expectantly watched. Immensely curious, Helen tasted the pancakes; the flavor was delicious. She smiled at Jake and said, "Honey, these are wonderful."

Jake scrambled around the table and took the mirror from Helen's lap, holding it up to her face so that she could see that, though still not completely even, her smile was stronger and warmer than anything since her stroke.

Eyes edged with tears, Helen put her strong arm around Jake and buried her face against his chest. "When everything else failed, you were always the one who could make me smile."

* * *

Lyrics for _Overkill _by Jimmy Buffett. 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipwichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

November 2006


	4. Girl: Lost and Found

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2006.

This is the fifty-second story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Girl: Lost and Found**

Feeling a cool, wet nose under his chin, Michael slowly opened his eyes to see Bump standing on his chest, staring down. He turned to Daria, cuddled next to him under the comforter. "Wake up, I think somebody wants breakfast."

"Mmm?" Daria mumbled.

"Mowr." Bump nosed Daria's cheek to make her point.

Squinting to focus on the cat, Daria said, "Sorry, your Grace. We'll be with you in a moment."

"Mowr."

"Keep it up, and you'll get dry food instead of flounder."

Bump squatted down and stretched, purring and rubbing her cheek and forehead against Daria's cheek.

"She doesn't fight fair," Michael said.

"No, she doesn't," Daria agreed, starting to pet the cat's back. "But I suppose it is a birthday of sorts; she hired me a year ago."

"Wow," Michael said, "That was a year ago? Hmm, ever thought of wearing that costume again?"

"Maybe later," Daria said with a slender smile.

"Meow!" Bump nudged Daria under her jaw.

Daria took her glasses from the nightstand and put them on. "Excuse us for sleeping in a little late."

"Meow."

Daria kissed Michael and said, "Give me a minute to appease the Lady of the Manor."

She reached down the side of the bed with a bare arm and brought up a dark red bathrobe. Daria pulled it under the comforter and slipped it on, disturbing Bump's place on the bed, forcing her to retreat to the foot and watch. Daria then dropped her feet over the side and slid them into warm slippers before coming out from under the warm bed cover. She stood and took a step to Bump, rubbing the cat's nose. "It's easy for you to be up on these mornings; you're already wearing a fur coat."

Michael leaned over to retrieve a pair of sweat pants and a pullover shirt from the floor. "One downside of an old place like this: there's no insulation to speak of."

Daria started walking to the door and Bump jumped down and closely followed. Daria looked back and said, "Like your place is any better?"

Staying under the comforter to put on his clothes, Michael said, "We don't have a coal chute next to the boiler."

"It hides the fuel oil fittings. Besides, it's a historical relic. You should appreciate things like that."

* * *

"Science has shown that their god will be around after a nuclear holocaust! Worshiping at the First Church of the Holy Roach! Next, on our 'What Will They Believe in Next?' special edition of _Sick, Sad World_!" 

Looking at the scene on the television, Michael asked, "Doesn't that look like the steam pipe tunnels under Raft?"

"Beats me. How would you know?" Daria asked.

"When I was a freshman, some of us went down out of curiosity. A couple of the guys on the floor had heard that the 'Mother of all Roaches' lived there." He laughed, "I wonder how many 'steam tunnel' urban legends are floating around?"

Daria started counting with fingers. "Well, there's the role-playing gamers that have been lost for twenty years, the colony of alligators started from pets flushed down the toilets…don't ask me how they got from the sewers to the steam tunnels. Hmm, then there's the serial voyeur/rapist/killer that uses secret exits to attack women in the dorms…"

Joining in, Michael added, "Don't forget the eight-legged, wingless chickens the biotech lab accidentally released."

"Must be what the alligators and the gamers have been eating," Daria replied.

The front door popped open and Karen hurried in, dropping an overloaded backpack on the floor and pushing the door closed with her hip. "I'm back!"

Daria swiveled on the sofa and said, "Did Derek make it back, or is he buried in a shallow grave somewhere deep in the woods?"

"I let him live."

Karen opened the backpack and hunted around for a few seconds before taking out a mess kit and a bag of trash. Carrying them to the kitchen, she said, "I think it would be fun for all of us to go camping sometime."

"I wasn't happy about getting out of my warm bed here this morning, let alone in a tent in this weather," Daria said. "And the idea of 'eating what nature provides' is right out."

Karen tossed her trash in the bin and pulled the mess kit apart to put it in the dishwasher. "As Derek said, 'If God intended us to live off the land, he wouldn't have given us MREs.'"

"I thought they taught soldiers how to forage in the woods," Michael said.

Karen crossed back to the door to pick up her backpack. "They teach the Special Forces guys to eat stuff that would make Jane puke, but Derek's just as happy to eat something more civilized, and so am I. Speaking of Jane, it doesn't look like she's back from Vance yet."

"Nope," Daria said. "You know her; she'll probably roll in about midnight."

Talking from her room while unpacking, Karen said, "I don't know how she does it. If I stayed up that late, I'd be dead in the morning."

"Karen, you're up before six every morning; I don't know you do that."

"Clean living?"

* * *

"Growf," Jane sleepily mumbled over a large mug of coffee as she sat down. 

Eating instant oatmeal, Daria said, "Good morning to you, too. Karen's already left for school."

"Mondays suck more than paint-by-numbers kits. Please, just shoot me."

"Forget it, Lane, you're not getting off that easy. And people used to call me the Misery Chick."

"Funny, Morgendorffer. Don't forget the 'teenage underground bummer culture.'"

"How could I ever forget?"

* * *

Resting the folder of papers on the briefcase on her lap, a pleasant brunette in comfortable traveling slacks and warm sweater said, "This just keeps getting better and better. I couldn't have asked for more. Published author, stood up to corruption at her old high school, part of a big, society-type wedding. Certainly doesn't sound like the person that unscrupulous hack, Val, described." 

"This is your captain. We have started our descent to Logan International Airport and should be arriving at the gate at 8:55 AM, about fifty minutes from now. It is currently 39 degrees in Boston, 4 degrees Celsius, partly cloudy and with a light wind from the West. We hope you have enjoyed your flight," the aircraft pilot announced.

The woman placed the folder inside the briefcase and closed it before sliding it under the seat in front. "It's looking like the real story of 'D' is going to be a lot more interesting."

* * *

Walking next to Daria as they started a second circuit of the Raft's Quad, Wendy Anderson said, "We had fun the last time, didn't we?" 

Daria said to the pale brunette, "Yes, but I also didn't have the same schedule that I have now. Between class, work and studying, I barely have time to keep up with Sick, Sad World and spend time with my boyfriend."

"Heh, if you didn't mention fitting him in somewhere, I'd worry."

"Is worry all you'd be interested in?" Daria said, to poke fun at her friend from theater class the year before.

"Is there something new I should know about you?" Wendy said with a wink. "Could make life interesting."

"No, just making sure we understand each other."

"Okay…just didn't want to miss any opportunities. But getting back to you auditioning for a play; maybe you could try out for a small part. Nothing big and you wouldn't have to hit as many rehearsals."

"Maybe when I don't have so much on my plate. On top of everything else, I'm still worried about Mom; learning to pay attention to what I eat is a pain in the ass, plus finding time to do this. Damn need to actually exercise."

"Exercise, you get used to it…or at least get used to hating it. How's your mom, anyway?"

"She's been able to take a couple steps with a walker during therapy and her arm is stronger. Mom's voice is still slow and it's starting to bug her, now that she's not so worried about getting up and around."

"Your dad?"

"With Mom relying on Dad, he's lost some of his cluelessness, as if he's found a purpose in life again. However, I wouldn't want to be in the kitchen while he's cooking. Mom says that he still a bit excitable on that subject."

"Excitable, huh?"

* * *

Reading from a printed page, Daria sniffed the contents of a pot on the stove and then added a sprinkling of spices. "So far, so good." 

Digging in the refrigerator, Karen asked, "Another one of Mrs. Fulton's recipes?"

"Yeah, this is spiced chicken and vegetables in tomato sauce."

"Sounds tasty."

"I'm glad the two of you are going along with my new diet."

Karen patted her hip. "I figure that it can't hurt, and if I lose a couple inches off my ass, so much the better."

"Well then, anything for a friend."

"Misery loves company."

"Yeah, we can call ourselves the Three Misery Chicks."

Hearing the doorbell, Karen said, "I'll get it; you're cooking and I think Jane's in the painting zone."

"Wouldn't be the first time. Thanks."

At the door, Karen found a brunette woman in her late twenties who said, "Hi, my name is Debbie Cawthon-Schellski. I'm looking for Daria Morgendorffer; is this the right place?"

"Yeah." Karen looked over her shoulder and yelled. "Daria! It's for you, somebody named Debbie."

Scratching her head, Daria stepped out of the kitchen, saying, "The only Debbie I know is in my Old English Lit class. Can't imagine why she'd be here." Reaching the door, Daria asked, "Do I know you?"

"No, you don't." Debbie held up a familiar old issue of _Val_ magazine. "My name is Debbie, and I'm looking to do a follow-up story."

Daria frowned and started to close the door. "With the way Val made an ass of herself at my aunt's wedding, I'm not interested. Nobody was heartbroken when security escorted her out."

Karen said, "Didn't your aunt's new mother-in-law discreetly tell the security guard, "Don't hesitate to use a taser?"

"If you call using the PA system 'discreet.'"

Debbie chuckled and said, "I heard about that. Please tell me that the guards followed their instructions."

Karen said, "I think I did hear someone screaming."

"I hope so." Debbie opened the magazine to the old article and showed it to them. "Actually, I'm after the real story, not what my ex-boss wrote."

Karen stepped back and stared at Daria before breaking into a big grin. "You're 'D'!"

Daria's shoulders dropped. "You used to read that rag?"

Karen shrugged. "So I didn't have the best taste as a teenager, shoot me."

Jane came out of her room and asked, "What was that?"

Daria waved her head toward Jane. "Debbie, that's Agent J. You've already met Agent K. Now, can somebody please use a neuralizer on all of us so we can forget this ever happened?"

Debbie said, "Don't worry; I'm on your side. It's a little chilly out here on the landing. May I come in?"

Daria asked, "You said ex-boss, correct?"

"Yes. I used to work for Val, but I landed a new job six months ago, much to my relief."

"Come in."

* * *

Sitting in the living room and eating dinner with the others, Debbie explained, "I had to escape. Being immersed in teenage culture for too long can cause brain damage." 

Jane said, "So that explains what happened to Val."

"I wouldn't doubt it," Debbie agreed. "I was hired as a staff writer and editor for _West Coast Journal_, gave my two week notice and was out of there. My husband's a computer junkie and picked up a new job less than a month after we moved to Seattle."

Karen faced Daria and feign scowled. "I've been living with a teen celebrity all this time. Anything else you're holding out on, Daria?"

Daria sighed and said, "Since you asked, I'm secretly the child of an obscure, eastern European monarch and some day soon, I'll be taken back to the castle to begin my formal training as Queen of the Gypsies."

Laughing, Debbie said, "That's the kind of humor I liked in your essay."

"Too bad it wasn't published," Daria complained.

"It completely went over Val's head, and when she got back from your visit…let's just say that she wasn't in a good mood."

"Come on Daria," Jane said, "you were proud of being labeled the antiteen."

"For opposing the shallow lifestyle Val represented, yes. But I guess I was annoyed that she never understood why I was different and that there were alternative views to her way of thinking."

"That's Val," Debbie said.

"I never could figure out how such a ditz managed to run a magazine," Daria said.

Debbie said, "Because Val's public persona is not what she's like in the office. She's smart, determined, and brutal when it comes to business. You don't create and publish your own magazine by being an airhead."

"Good point, but that still doesn't explain her behavior at Amy's wedding."

"Any press is good press in Val's eyes. She'll turn things around and write a story her way, just like she did when you didn't turn into a fawning sycophant."

"Maybe you should warn your aunt," Karen suggested.

"I don't know," Jane said. "If Amy calls in her mom and sisters…things could get ugly for Val."

Daria said, "So?"

* * *

**Four years ago, Val presented D to the world as a bitter, dispirited loser who couldn't see how wonderful it was to be a teen and was destined for bitter obscurity. Hardly the words you'd use to describe Daria Morgendorffer, now a junior at Raft. Writing is what first brought her to the notice of Val, and that's what Daria has continued, recently celebrating the publication of her fifth short story.**

"That's a good start," Debbie said, looking at the screen of her laptop as she sat cross-legged on the bed of her hotel room. She scanned through her notes and started typing again.

After a couple minutes, she stopped to answer her cell phone. "Hello…Hi, honey…I'm at the hotel, got in a couple minutes ago…Actually ate dinner with Ms. Morgendorffer and her roommates and had a nice conversation…I'm going to meet her again tomorrow afternoon where she works and interview people there. Oh yeah, Val gave the story a twist, and now I have the other side…Yes, I'm going through with it. She made my life hell for five years..."

* * *

"What?! She's where? That bitch!" Val screamed into the telephone. "I made her and I'll break her. I knew that skanky wannabe would do something like this when she left. Nobody leaves Val!" 

After dramatically pausing, Val said, "I need a ticket to Boston, ASAP…Of course, first class…Then pay the airline double and tell them to bump some loser off of the flight! Oh, and send someone to my place to pack my bags."

Val set the phone on her desk and looked out of her office window at New York's morning skyline. "Nobody."

* * *

"Thank you, Dr. Findlay," Debbie said to Daria's boss the next afternoon. She turned off her tape recorder and stepped to the door. 

"My pleasure," the professor replied as he escorted Debbie from the office. "Daria is one of our best employees."

Overhearing that, Daria leaned to the side and whispered to Shelly, "I'd hate to see how he treats his worst employees."

"He eats them," Shelly replied.

"With or without a nice Chianti?"

* * *

Outside Raft's Dunston Hall, Val stopped a gently round girl with brown hair and narrow, gold framed glasses. "Hi. Do you happen to know Daria Morgendorffer? I'm a reporter doing a story about her writing." 

Jenn Cavendish said, "Yeah, we both lived on the third floor of Fenderson Hall as freshman."

"What kind of dorm resident was she? Quiet? Party girl?"

"Oh, we were all pretty tame; the third was officially a quiet floor."

Val sighed. "No wild parties, huh?"

"Well, we did throw a few birthday parties, including one for Daria. You know, cake and ice cream and soda, all the good stuff that's bad for you."

"Anything else?"

"She helped me out on some real tough homework assignments. She's really good at helping you understand stuff."

Val rubbed her temples and sighed.

* * *

Outside the Big Bean Burrito shop, a tall young man said to Val, "Daria? Yeah, she set me up with Jane, who set me up with CC and who set me up with Faith. I owe her one." 

Val scratched her head, trying to follow Al Jakob's logic. She then asked, "So, um, anything else you'd like to add?"

"Well, we worked on a class project together once. She really has a good brain between the ears. Cute, too."

"Cute?"

"Yeah, in that 'I don't have to show it off' kind of way. Michael's got a got a good thing going, dating her."

"So, she has a boyfriend?" Val said, surprised.

"Well, duh. Didn't I just say that?"

"What's his name?"

"Michael Fulton."

* * *

Carly Stanton leaned back on a bench near the Quad and said, "Yeah, I know her. Wish we could get her on at _The Mast_, but she has a cushy job over with the U-Press and has been published professionally anyway." 

"You're a writer?"

"Journalism major. I moved up to the Campus News Editor of the school paper this year."

"So, Daria thinks she's too good for your school paper?"

"She's never said anything like that, but if I were in her shoes, I wouldn't blame her. What can we offer that's better than what she already has lined up?"

Val's lips formed a sickening grin. "Thank you."

* * *

Val nodded as she listened to a tall, handsome blond young man near the gymnasium say, "Yeah, I met her over the summer while dealing with Add-Drop. What a tease." 

"Oh?"

He struck an exaggerated pose, bracing his hands against the small of his back and bending, pushing his chest out. "Like a chick doing this isn't showing off?"

* * *

"I can sew clothes that will make anyone look hot," Isabelle bragged, lingering near the backstage door of the theater. "Even you." 

Val scowled and coldly said, "I'm sure." Ready to take notes again, she asked, "What was that you said about Wendy?"

"Well, Daria's not used to really showing off, but hey, like I said, she looked damn good in that costume. Well, Wendy couldn't resist making a few comments, all in good fun."

"So…Wendy's a lesbian?"

"Red, white and blue."

"Is Wendy part of the theater department?"

"Yep."

"Do they still have contact with each other?"

"Wendy and Daria also meet before lunch every day to exercise."

"Oh, really?" Val said, raising one eyebrow.

* * *

Standing outside Founder's Hall, Ken belched loudly, causing Val to flinch away from his breath. He said, "Dumbass went back to her, too. Tried to warn him, but did he listen? Noooo." 

"Sounds like you really don't care for Daria too much."

"Michael might have whined now and then about our dorm room, but once he started seeing her, it was like me, and the room, were the black plague or something. Just because the prissy little piece of ass doesn't care for a little disorder, it doesn't mean you treat your roommate like dirt."

"I see."

"He wanted to whisk her off to Italy! I may not be Mr. Romantic…"

Val rolled her eyes.

Ken continued, "…but even I could see how cool moving to Europe would be. But no, she wanted to make her own decisions. Thought he was going to be a real man and tell her to stuff it, but nah, he folded like a house of cards in a week. Talk about whipped."

Val nodded and closed her notebook. "Thank you very much. You've been most helpful."

"Sure, any time."

* * *

Walking from a well-respected seafood restaurant along the harbor shore and holding Daria's hand, Michael said, "Thanks for picking up the tab." 

Beside them, Debbie said, "You're welcome. That's what expense accounts are for."

"And we'll gladly take advantage of it," Daria said.

"I remember the Free Food Code very well."

"And a plus to working for a magazine I might consider." Daria then asked, "Will you be around campus tomorrow?"

Debbie shook her head. "I'm flying back to Seattle early. It looks like I have what I need for a good story."

"That makes this a pretty quick trip for you," Michael said.

"Deadlines. You learn to plan and work fast."

"And, that's a minus," Daria said.

"You take the good with the bad." Debbie waved as her path diverged toward her rental car. "Have a good night, and thanks; you've been wonderful to interview."

"Thanks. I'll look for the article."

* * *

Finally reaching the staff parking lot after fighting Boston's midday traffic, Daria found an empty spot and pulled into it before any of the other prowling cars. She turned off the car's engine before resting her head on the steering wheel. "Okay Morgendorffer, tell me again why I'm driving instead of taking the bus or the subway. The middle school isn't that far away." 

After taking time to settle down, Daria reached to the passenger seat and grabbed her bookbag. "At least I only have to sit in on a class once a week. Not like next year when I do my teaching internship five days a week. Hopefully, I'll pull a high school and not a middle school." She pulled it after her as she exited the car, swinging it on in one motion as she locked and closed the door.

"Miss Daria Morgendorffer?"

Hearing the voice behind her, Daria turned to find two campus security officers. She said, "Yes, is there a problem?"

"Ma'am, we had several reports of a strange woman asking questions about you yesterday afternoon."

"Debbie? She was with me yesterday afternoon."

"The woman was described as blond haired, mid to late thirties and dressed like a teenager. Do you recognize her?"

The second officer said, "Someone said her face looked like it was put on too tight."

Daria dropped back against her car. "Val."

* * *

"What can she do?" Wendy asked as she walked with Daria. "Write about the college underground bummer culture? Like that's going to bother you." 

"What bothers me is that she was asking questions around school secretly. When she visited my high school, she made sure everyone knew she was going to secretly be there."

"Come on, what would anyone say bad about you?"

"Well, during the show, Mandy was pretty jealous of how Len was eyeing me."

Wendy laughed, "And your sister. Hell, Mandy was jealous of anyone in the show with boobage."

"True. Besides, who do we know that reads crap like Val anymore?"

"Nobody whose opinion we give a damn about."

* * *

Seated at her work desk, Debbie stared at her computer monitor. "Can't we set the spam filter to cull the stupid forwarded crap that comes from within the network?" 

She picked up her phone after it rang once. "Yes?"

The receptionist said, "Do you have time for a visitor?"

"Who is it?"

"Says her name is Val."

Debbie felt queasy and decided to get the unpleasant task over with. "Send her in."

Val waltzed into the office sporting a disturbingly friendly smile. "Hi Deb, how's Seattle treating you?"

"Val, what a surprise. I just got back in from a trip."

"So I hear," Val sweetly said. "Anything interesting?"

"Not really, just a couple interviews for a story."

"Uh-huh. How's Dar doing these days?"

Trying to keep her composure, Debbie asked, "What was that?"

Val smirked and said, "Hmm, I heard that she was too good to work for the school paper…quite a tease, to guys and gals…keeps a standing date with an open lesbian, and has her boyfriend completely wrapped around her finger."

Debbie sat frozen behind her desk, struggling to find words to say.

"Oh, don't look so shocked, Deb." Val leaned on the desk to place her face right in front of Debbie's. "All I had to do was ask around Raft a little. I wonder what I could find if I dig deeper? It might be interesting to pay a visit to her old hometown. Talk to Dar's mother again."

Debbie locked smoldering eyes on Val's as the anger rose inside.

"Cat got your tongue?" Whirling away to drop into a chair, Val added, "I told you to ditch that pesky conscience; it only gets in the way."

Rage finally coming through, Debbie said, "Your fight is with me. Why are you dragging that poor girl into it?"

"Me? My dear, you dragged Dar into this. I'm only using the tool you planned to use against me. Actually, only if I have a reason to use it." Val stood and walked to the door, pausing before opening it. "It's been great seeing you again, Deb. Have a nice day."

After Val quietly closed the door, Debbie dropped her head onto her folded arms. "Oh, damn."

* * *

"Daria, this is my fight, not yours, and I'm so sorry I got you involved," Debbie explained over the phone. 

Listening on her cell phone while on a break from work, Daria said, "I'm not that worried about…"

"You're not worried now, but later, it might make a difference. Word gets around the publishing world and an early reputation for having a publisher out to get you will hurt your chances of selling stories. Yes, some might be interested in you just for that reason, but more will avoid you."

"I'm still willing…"

"…to have Val go to Lawndale and become a nuisance for your mother? She threatened to do that."

"Dammit! How in the hell did she outmaneuver us so badly?"

"Like I told you before, that blonde airhead persona is just a façade. Val built her magazine from scratch and she's ruthlessly held onto it. I thought I could get a jump on her and get the story in print before she found out. I'm sorry, but I was wrong."

"Someone must've tipped her off."

"She has lots of friends, or what passes for friends in her world. It wouldn't surprise me that somebody here was behind it."

"Some friends."

"Yeah."

"Debbie, this only makes me more determined."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

Helen sat in the living room and talked on the cordless phone. "Even though Val slanted the old story heavily, the presented facts were accurate, even you admit that." 

"True."

"And I'm sure you've taken a few choice actions and made comments at Raft that didn't exactly make friends with everyone."

"Also, true."

"So, unless she goes over the line and prints something that is factually untrue, and does so with clear malicious intent, you won't have any legal recourse."

"I understand. Mom, Val's also suggested that she might make a trip to Lawndale. After hearing about your stroke, Debbie was really worried."

"Sweetie…" The slowness of her own voice becoming irritating, Helen growled, "I'd love the opportunity to sink my teeth into somebody."

"Somehow, I think you'd enjoy that, Mom."

"I still haven't been back in a courtroom, and it's considered bad form to bite the other law partners."

* * *

"I can't believe Daria convinced me not to give up yet," Debbie said out loud as she leaned back in her desk chair, thinking. "Who could've told Val I was doing the story? My editor Jack knew, but he's certainly no friend of Val's. That leaves the receptionist Cheri and Bernice, who handles travel down in finance. My gut instinct says it's probably not Cheri, so I think I'll talk to Bernice." 

She swiveled the chair to the right and rocked forward to step away in one smooth motion. Going past the receptionist, Debbie said, "Be back in a few," and walked down the hall toward the finance department. Once there, she nodded to a secretary and opened a door marked, "Travel."

Only one of the two desks inside was occupied. Debbie asked, "Is Bernice in today?"

The plump black woman at the desk grumbled, "Didn't you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"She up and quit earlier today. No notice, just, bam! Gone, leaving me to cover for her sorry ass until we get someone hired and trained."

"I'm sorry. Did she give a reason?"

"She said something about a better offer back east. I've known for a while that she wasn't happy here. I guess an opportunity came up and she took it. She could've at least given notice, though."

"Uh-huh, I'm sure. Thanks, Nina."

"Any time. Did you need something? I have your Boston paperwork here, somewhere."

"No…you've already told me what I need to know."

* * *

"Think you could trick that general into making an appearance again? He did a good job on Romonica and Claude," Jane suggested as she, Karen and Daria sat around the living room. 

Daria said, "Not bad, but his magazine went under a year ago. He's probably out doing real mercenary work again. Oops, that should be private security contracting."

Half joking, Karen said, "Hey, maybe Mrs. Wyatt could buy Val's magazine and fire her."

Daria shook her head. "Nah, wouldn't work. Val owns 51 of the magazine's stock."

"So, you've already thought of it."

"It crossed my mind. But I'm relieved it won't be a temptation."

Jane said, "There's that conscience of yours again."

At the sound of the doorbell, Karen said, "No, she prefers another kind of temptation."

Standing and crossing the room to the door, Daria said, "For a country girl, you're really hooked on that show."

"Trust me; it's a lot more interesting than _Sex in the Cornfield_."

Daria grabbed her jacket and pulled it on as she opened the door. "Hi Michael, let's go. It's getting pretty deep in here."

He said, "Oh, sure. Any luck with the Val problem?"

"Not yet."

* * *

Debbie's editor, a fortyish man with small, round glasses and black hair speckled with gray, stepped into her office and closed the door. "Debbie, I knew that there was bad blood between you and Val when you were hired, but things are getting ugly." 

"I'm sorry, Jack," was all she could think to say.

"When the boss finds out that the magazine we were going to scoop ended up scooping us and hiring their spy away in the process, my ass is going to be on a platter."

"Damn, I screwed things up royally, didn't I?"

"No worse than I have."

"So…"

"The story is still yours, and I'll run it if you feel strongly enough about it. But if things hit the fan, the boss is not going to cover for you."

"Meaning, it'll be my job."

"And possibly mine."

"You're taking a big risk."

"I trust my writers. If you think the story is worth it, we'll go. If not, we won't. The choice is yours."

"Thanks."

"Good luck," he said, exiting and closing the door.

"Damn, damn, damn," Debbie forlornly said. "I feel like I'm only going deeper and deeper without getting anywhere."

A little later, nestled in Michael's cautious embrace while sitting on the sofa in his apartment, Daria listened to her cell phone. Debbie said, "As much as it makes me so mad I could scream, I can't go on with the story. It's not worth the risk to everyone I've gotten involved."

Daria answered, "So far, we've also come up short on how to get around Val. Too bad the old Roman habit of poisoning isn't still practiced," she said, more than slightly seriously.

Overhearing, Michael said, "It would be appropriate. Val sounds like a scheming matriarch from _I Claudius_."

"And regrettably, just as devious," Daria said.

Michael looked at the replica of the Roman XIXth Legion standard that Daria had given him. "Can I make a suggestion?"

"Um, I'm all ears." To the phone, she said, "Debbie, hold on a second."

Michael pointed his thumb at the standard. "You've heard me talk about the Lost Eagles of Varius and the Battle of Teutoburg Forest."

"Yeah, big disaster like this is turning into."

"Yep. Now, has your Old English Lit class covered anything about Ælfred the Great's retreat to the Somerset Moors before his reconquest of England from Guthrum?"

"No."

After hearing his explanation, Daria said to Debbie, "My history geek boyfriend just had an idea. Debbie, I agree that we've lost the battle. Let's not lose the war."

Debbie softly, and sadly, said, "I hate how Val manages to get away with this crap."

"That doesn't mean we can't prepare the groundwork for a comeback later."

Debbie perked up. "You have an idea?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

* * *

Debbie read what she'd previously completed of the article and sighed. "That would've been a good story." She then closed her eyes and deleted the text. After a moment, she smiled and said to herself, "But without mentioning D, I think this one might be better." 

**On a recent trip to Boston, I was delighted to make the acquaintance of Ms. M. No, not the singer, but a college junior with a special outlook on life and plans for the future.**

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. 

December, 2006.


	5. Daria Went Down to Georgia

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2007.

This is the fifty-third story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Daria Went Down to Georgia**

The November afternoon sun highlighted Maddie Myerson's light brown/blond hair as she opened the front door of her house and looked across the yard toward the equipment barn for her husband, Geoff. She spotted him crawling up onto a tractor parked near the far end of the barn, a wrench in one hand and grease smeared over his face and arms. Maddie cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "Geoff!"

He took his cap off and wiped his face with a less-greasy part of one arm. "Yes, dear?"

"That was Karen. They're all set to fly to Brunswick Wednesday night. You'll need to get there by about eight."

Geoff asked as he walked across the yard, "Still all six?"

"No, dear. Jane and her boyfriend are going to see their families instead."

"Okay, but that still means I'll have to clear the empty predator mite boxes out of the truck's back seat."

"Something you should've done a week ago, Mr. Myerson," she teased.

"You know how busy things are during transplant season for the sweet onions." Teasing in return, Geoff said, "It's not like you've been that busy; you should pick them up."

"Fine, I'll let you cook the turkey while your mother offers advice." 

"What time am I supposed to be at the airport?"

* * *

A dull aluminum and gray walker around her legs, Helen stood at the downstairs bathroom counter. Most of her weight rested on her right leg, but she felt comfortable enough to place some on her weakened left while she applied makeup.

In their temporary bedroom, Jake called, "Honey, have you seen my razor?"

She looked at the device still resting in its charger on the bathroom counter. "In here, Jake," she replied before dropping her head in frustration-not so much at her husband, but at the remaining effects her stroke had on her voice.

Jake appeared and reached for the razor. "Thanks, honey. Boy, I wonder if California's changed that much since I was there back in '69."

"I'm sure it has."

"I ate at this great burger joint on the way to Altamonte called 'Peace on a Bun'. Maybe we can try to find it."

"Jake, Altamonte and San Diego are in completely different parts of California."

"Oh, yeah."

Helen faintly smiled and said, "Good thing we won't be passing through Boulder, Colorado."

Studying his and Helen's reflections in the mirror, Jake said, "Was it really us?"

Helen closed her makeup compact and answered, "It doesn't seem like it anymore. Was it really so long ago?"

Jake put his arm around Helen's waist. "Long enough for us to have a beautiful daughter in college to visit." 

She rested her head on his shoulder. "Quinn sure is excited about it."

"Almost as much as Daria was last year, even if she'd never admit it."

Closing her eyes, Helen said, "We may not be the same people we were back then, but maybe that was the price for two wonderful children."

* * *

"Die, bastard, die!" Lewis yelled at the television while furiously waving and pressing buttons on a game controller. On the television, a Nazi airplane exploded and the young man flopped back onto the sofa in relief. 

Carrying a suitcase, Michael walked behind the sofa and said, "How many does that make?"

"Fifty-three." 

"A grad student who doesn't know how to fly has over fifty kills. Yeah, that's a realistic flight sim."

"You're just jealous because you can't get more than two before being shot down."

"Maybe. Still hanging around here all weekend?"

"Yeah, no reason to go put up with the family. A bunch of us plan on getting together at Dina's Devilish Deli for dinner tomorrow to satisfy our turkey fix."

Michael leaned against the sofa back. "I feel kinda weird. This is the first time since I started college that I could afford to go home for the holiday and I'm not."

"No, you'll be with your girlfriend, a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Michael, it's part of that whole 'leaving the nest' bit."

"Yeah. But, I was also thinking that since Gina's a senior, she might be gone next year. What if we've already had our last Thanksgiving dinner together, and didn't even realize it?"

"I don't think anyone really plans a last big Thanksgiving together. They just sort of happen. If you're lucky, it's a good one, if not…oh well." 

"Sorry Lewis, I didn't mean to bring anything up." 

"Not your fault, it was my choice of timing." Lewis turned to look at Michael. "Hey, I'll be all right. Get going, or you'll be late. Remember, if you hear Dueling Banjos, run." 

"I'll take that under consideration. Have a good weekend."

"You, too."

Michael went downstairs to the sidewalk and waited for a couple minutes before Daria's car appeared. Karen and Derek waved from the back seat of the black sedan as Daria pulled into the loading zone half a block down the street. Just as he reached the car, Daria pulled the trunk release to open it, allowing Michael to drop his suitcase inside before coming forward.

Daria leaned over to kiss Michael as he sat down. "Hi."

"Hey," he said, returning the kiss.

Daria checked over her shoulder and pulled back onto the street. "Next stop, airport. Oh, um, Karen has some news about the sleeping arrangements at her parents'." 

"Oh?" Michael asked.

Karen said, "Um…to avoid freaking out Great-grandma, Daria and I will be in my old room, and you and Derek will be in Terry's old room. Ya'll can decide who gets the bed and who gets the cot."

Disappointed, Michael nodded in understanding. "Derek, I hope you don't snore."

"Not that anyone's told me," Derek said. He reached into his pocket for a quarter. "Heads or tails?"

"Eh, heads," Michael guessed.

Derek flipped the coin and showed it to Karen, who said, "Tails." 

Michael muttered, "Damn."

* * *

Jane parked her car against a curb and looked at the impressive building. "I'll give those frat boys marks for comfortable digs."

She jogged to the front door and rang the bell, softly whistling and grinning while she waited. A huge, broad shouldered man with curly blond hair answered the door. "Oh, hi Jane. Come on in and I'll holler for Mike." 

"Thanks, Phil."

He took three steps and bellowed, "Mike! Get your slack ass down here!"

Jane smirked and said, "Such subtlety."

He laughed. "Defensive tackles are not known for that."

Taking the stairs two at a time, Mack ran down the stairs with a suitcase in one hand.

Jane ran over and intercepted him at the base of the stairs. "Hey there, tiger."

He wrapped his free arm around Jane's waist and kissed her. "Then you must be a tigress."

"I like that; just don't ask me to put stripes in my hair."

* * *

Fran leaned against the kitchen counter, chin resting on her left hand, as she watched Quinn buzzing around the suite's common room. "You're going to wear yourself out if you keep that up."

Quinn rapidly replied, "I want everything to look right for Mom and Dad. It means a lot to me."

"The place is cleaner than it was when we moved in. You've even combed out the dust bunnies." 

Quinn stopped and absorbed the last comment. "I have been a little frantic, haven't I?"

"Just a little. I think Grace and Tammy are scared to come out of their rooms until you're done."

"I want Mom and Dad to understand how much I like it here."

"I'm sure that they'll figure it out."

* * *

Pushing Helen's airport wheelchair through the crowded concourse, Jake looked at the long line in front of the security station. "Um, Helen, how are we going to get your wheelchair through the scanner?"

Feeling like every eye was on her, she said, "They'll have to hand-check me."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine, Jake."

"I hear they're getting really strict on this security stuff."

"Yes, Jake. Just make sure the rest of our carryon goes through the x-ray machine right." 

"Will do."

The wait slowly frayed their nerves before they finally reached the screeners. Jake placed their carryon luggage and Helen's purse on the x-ray machine's conveyer belt. A woman smiled and nodded at Helen. "This way please, and I'll take care of you."

The second screener, a balding man, said to Jake, "Please remove your shoes and run those through also, sir."

The woman examining Helen squatted and said, "I'll get them for you, ma'am. Sorry, standard procedure."

"If you must," Helen said.

The woman placed Helen's shoes on the conveyer and pushed her to the side to begin hand inspection. "This will only take a moment or two." 

Near panicked, Jake looked at the man and said, "My shoes? What's wrong with my shoes?"

"It's standard procedure, sir."

Jake started to reach for his shoelaces, but stopped. "Is it safe to touch them?"

Bored and slightly sarcastic, the screener said, "You may want to hold your breath."

"Hold my breath?" Jake jerked his head up, wild-eyed. "Why do I need to hold my breath?" 

"Sir, you're holding up the line."

"Oh!" Jake took a big gulp of air and held his breath. When he leaned over to untie his shoes, he overbalanced and fell, sprawling under the edge of the conveyor. "Dammit!"

Several people in line started to laugh, as well as the screener.

"What's so funny?" Jake screamed, trying to sit up. Bumping his head on the underside of the conveyor caused more laughter.

"Gah!" Jake pulled his shoes off without untying them and tossed them overhand onto the conveyor.

Trying to recover some decorum, the screener extended his hand to help Jake stand. "Sir?" 

"Oh, thanks!" Jake said, accepting the help and looking embarrassed as he stepped toward the metal detector.

He screener tugged on Jake's sleeve and held out a plastic dish. "Please put your keys and any other metal objects in here."

Jake replied, "Oh yeah, sure!" and piled keys, loose change, a rabbit's foot and a cell phone in the tray.

Once through the checkpoint, Jake turned to retrieve their items. "See, Helen? That wasn't so hard."

Helen sighed and buried her face in her hands.

Jake took his position behind the wheelchair and started pushing when a third screener said, "Sir, you may want to put your shoes back on."

* * *

"Just a moment; these things don't exactly come off fast," Daria told the airport screener as she dropped to one knee and started to untie her boot. 

Already through the checkpoint, Daria's comment caused Derek to snort from holding back a laugh.

"What was that for?" Karen asked him.

Derek looked briefly at Michael, waiting in line behind Daria. "I'm picturing…" he started to say before stopping to chuckle again.

Daria pulled one boot off and looked up at him, scowling. "You don't need to go any further."

Karen saw Michael look slightly away with a faint, thoughtful smile on his face, which caused her to break out in laughter.

Switching to the other boot, Daria looked up again and asked, "Now, what?"

"Nothing," Karen said, catching her breath.

"Ugh." Daria untied the other boot and stood, placing both boots on the x-ray machine. "Don't mind my friends. They're…special."

* * *

"Hello? Anybody home?" Jane called into the seemingly empty Lane house.

"I'm in the kitchen," Lindy called back. How was your trip?"

Jane followed the voice and said, "Long, and my butt is stiff." In the kitchen, she saw Lindy at the table reading a cookbook. Other cookbooks and new-looking utensils were scattered around. Jane observed, "You were serious about dinner."

"I've missed big dinners, and maybe around here, it won't break down into petty bickering."

Jane leaned over the back of a chair. "Yeah, because bickering requires effort. How's Trent?" 

"Good. He's in the basement, practicing."

"I don't hear anything; are you sure he's not asleep?"

Lindy chuckled. "Like I said, practicing."

"Uh-huh. Since the band broke up, practicing what?"

"He's still doing solo performances, and I've hooked him up with some local agencies to do background music for commercials and stuff." 

"Please tell me he's getting paid more than a set of tires and studio time."

Lindy laughed more. "I heard about that. Yes, he is."

"Hey, Janey," Trent said, walking into the room.

She turned and hugged her brother. "Hey, you weren't asleep. Married life really is changing you."

In his familiar warm, slow voice, Trent said, "Maybe a little."

"What's your contribution tomorrow?"

"Um, keeping Jesse, Max and Nick out of Lindy's hair."

Jane turned back to Lindy. "I thought you wanted a dinner without bickering."

She waved off the concern. "Now that they're no longer in a band, the boys play together a lot better."

"Figures," Jane said.

"Still going to eat at the MacKenzies, too?" Lindy asked.

"I'm looking forward to the challenge of two full Thanksgiving dinners." She patted Trent's stomach. "Looks like you've put on a little weight. Or are you expecting?"

"Expecting what?" Getting the joke, Trent deadpanned, "Oh, um, not that I'm aware of. Maybe I should get it checked out."

* * *

Quinn leaned halfway out of the suite's door and waved. "Bye, Eddie! Thanks for bringing the food over from the deli. I appreciate it so much."

A man's voice replied, "Anytime, Quinn."

Leaning back on the sofa, Fran took a bite from an apple and said to Grace, "How does she do that?"

Grace shrugged. "She's cute." 

"Come on, cute only goes so far."

"She's a mutant," Tammy said. "She can control the mind of any male."

"I can almost buy that," Fran said. 

Quinn turned and closed the door. "It's all in the attitude. You have to know what you want."

"She's a mutant," Tammy reasserted. "But where does she hide the costume, and where's the bald guy?"

Fran curled one finger in her long, dark hair. "She is a redhead." 

"Yeah," Tammy said, walking to the food and picnic accessories piled in the kitchen. "Let's hope we're not around when she goes bad."

Quinn joined Tammy in the kitchen. "This is going to be so much fun: a picnic on the beach for Thanksgiving."

Fran said, "It's different, anyway." 

Grace scratched her head and asked, "Quinn, how are we going to get your mother's wheelchair onto the beach?"

Quinn stopped in mid-motion and stared back at Grace. "Uh…good question."

* * *

Seeing his daughter and her friends enter the baggage claim area, Geoff waved and said, "Karen! Over here!"

"Dad!" Karen broke from the others and ran to her father.

Geoff hugged her and said, "Welcome home, sweetheart."

Derek followed and said, "Hi, Mr. Myerson."

Geoff grabbed Derek's hand to shake it. "Welcome back." Looking past him, he saw the other two. "You must be Daria and Michael. Welcome to Georgia." 

"Hi," Daria answered slightly before Michael said the same.

"Karen's told us a lot about you." Geoff turned back to Karen to ask, "How was the flight?"

"Okay to Atlanta, but then pretty bumpy on the way here," she said. "Kind of like Terry's old on a clay road. Daria, that thing was a spray-bombed primer gray and the shocks were worn out two years before he bought it."

"Sounds like half the trucks I saw in Texas," Daria said. "Though I'm willing to bet they don't have the longhorns on the hood around here."

"Nah, just bug-shields and brush guards," Karen offered.

"The airport closed curbside parking for 'security', but the regular lot is pretty close," Geoff said. "Let's get your bags and load up."

"They couldn't squeeze too many people on that little commuter plane," Daria said, "So it shouldn't take too long, providing our luggage actually made the transfer in Atlanta."

Daria's prediction about them not taking long to locate their luggage proved accurate, and everything did, in fact, arrive. Geoff felt a little odd, walking back to the truck empty-handed as each of the others insisted on carrying their suitcases. As promised, the pale blue four-door truck, sides splashed with dried mud and dust, was parked nearby.

Geoff made a circle around the truck, unlocking doors and unsnapping the bed cover. "You can put your bags in the bed, they'll be safe." 

While the others were placing luggage in the truck bed, Geoff said, "Elvira must know you're coming home; she's been prancing around, all excited, lately. We're stabling Junior for the Wilsons, plus the Alvarez's Lancer and Lucinda. Everyone can ride." 

Daria fixed her eyes on Karen. "Ride? Isn't Elvira your horse?"

Karen shrugged and grinned. "It's a lot of fun. I know you've had a bad experience, but I hope we can change your mind. Trust me?"

Daria sighed and said, "I'll think about it."

"Good enough," Karen said, knowing not to push her luck and happy that Daria was willing to agree to that much.

"Who's sitting where?" Michael asked.

"You're the new guests," Geoff said, "You and Daria can sit in back; Karen and Derek can sit up front with me." 

Karen cautiously looked in the back seat. "Good, you cleaned it out."

"You sound just like your mother."

* * *

"Quinn, you're gonna wear a hole in the carpet," Grace said, watching Quinn pace back and forth behind the sofa.

Quinn stopped. "Sorry, I'm just worried about them running late."

Tammy said, "It's the day before Thanksgiving; the traffic around the airport always sucks. They're probably stuck behind some asshole pissed off over a fender-bender."

Under her breath, Quinn said, "I hope it isn't Dad."

"And if they take a wrong turn, it's always a pain to get back on track. They'll get here when they get here." Fran picked up a remote, pointed it at the VCR and said, "Hey, why don't we watch the last episode of _Buffy_? 

"You want to drool over Spike some more," Tammy said.

"Like there's something wrong with that?" Fran fired back.

Tammy said, "Move over," and sat on the sofa next to Fran.

Grace sat on the other side, one leg dangling over the sofa arm. "Give me Angel." 

"Hopeless shippers," Fran said, half-mocking. 

Grace held her head up. "Like you'd kick Angel out of bed."

"Of course not. But come on, he's got his own series. Buffy and Angel will never get together."

"So?" 

Quinn dashed to the door upon hearing the first knock and opened it. "Mom! Dad!"

"Quinn!" Jake exclaimed, standing behind Helen's wheelchair.

"Sweetie," Helen said, openly happy to see her daughter.

Quinn hesitated a couple seconds as she absorbed how her mother had changed. Besides the wheelchair, Quinn could see the slight, added fullness around her face from the extra weight gained during her enforced inactivity. Starting to cry, Quinn leaned over and embraced her mother. "It's so good to see you."

That triggered tears in Helen as she held her daughter and Jake rested his hand on Quinn's shoulder. 

Fran, Grace and Tammy wordlessly gathered near the door and patiently waited. When Quinn stood up, she wiped her eyes and said to her roommates, "Sorry, guys."

"Eh, no problem," Tammy said.

"Mom, Dad," Quinn pointed to each girl in turn as she said, "This is Fran, Tammy and Grace."

"Hi, kids," Jake cheerfully said with a wave of one hand.

"Hello, everyone," Helen said. "It's good to meet you."

The other girls gathered around to say their greetings. Amid the chatter, Helen cocked her head and reached out to touch the left side of Fran's smile, where the normally down-turned corner was barely raised. The result was reminiscent of Helen's now uneven smile.

Fran said, "That's one thing Quinn's brilliant makeup can't change. I've learned to live with it."

Helen lowered her hand. "Then you're doing better than I am."

"I've had more practice."

Jake stared in wonder at the main room of the suite as he and Helen finally entered. "Wow, our daughters sure have better places to live than we did in college, Helen."

His comment drew Helen's attention away from Fran. "Thank goodness. Honey, we lived in a dump."

"Now that you mention it, the place was kind of run down. This is much nicer."

Quinn said, "Mom, I thought you had an electric wheelchair."

Helen explained, "We figured that trying to get it through checked baggage or finding a rental car it would fit into would be a nightmare. But don't worry; my arm's a lot better and I can move myself pretty well." She winked at Jake, saying in a sultry tone, "And, your father enjoys the exercise."

"Mom!"

Grace laughed and said, "Don't you just hate it when parents do that?"

Fran said, "I always thought my aunt and uncle were cute." 

Tammy said, "It's creepier when Mom and the Step-Creep or Dad and the Jailbait do it."

Fran said, "Okay…eww!"

* * *

Lying on a decades-old folding bed, Daria blinked one eye open to look at Karen already dressed and moving around the room. "Your whole family gets up at the crack of dawn, don't they?"

"Nah," Karen joked, "Dad's usually up at least an hour before. That's why he likes Thanksgiving; he can sleep in."

"Wonderful." 

"It's amazing you didn't try to kill me when we shared that dorm room."

"Thought about it: too sleepy, no coordination, wouldn't work."

A rooster crowed in the front yard.

Daria rolled to glare at the window. "Those damn things really do exist."

Karen chuckled. "Yep, they sure do."

"I'd have thought natural selection would've eliminated such an obnoxious trait by now."

Down the hall, Michael pulled the sheet from his head and looked at the window. He grumbled, "That's worse than an alarm clock." 

In a t-shirt and sweat pants while doing pushups on the floor, Derek said, "Damn sight better than hearing _Reveille_." 

Michael flopped over, taking several seconds to realize that the voice was at floor level. "You're exercising," he said, dumbfounded.

"Yep. You should try it."

"I get enough sweeping up the crap people leave around our national landmarks, and I'll certainly pass on it before breakfast." 

"Okay, I can see that."

The rooster crowed again, causing Michael to roll back over and say, "Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time."

* * *

Daria tossed the sheet aside and rolled her legs over the side of the bed to sit up. "When in Rome. Hey, this is nice; it's not that cold."

"Amazing, isn't it?" Karen said. "One of the advantages of south Georgia; winter waits until winter."

"I can see the attraction," Daria said, putting on slippers and standing, straightening her black nightgown in the process. I hope there's not a long line for the bathroom."

* * *

Easily switching to sit-ups, Derek continued his exercise routine. "I noticed that Daria's lost some weight lately. Looks good on her."

Michael sat up on the cot and rubbed his face with his old t-shirt. "Her mother's stroke spooked Daria and she's trying to be careful about stuff like that. You know, I never really noticed that she'd gained; I always thought she looked wonderful. But, I did notice when she lost the weight. Speaking of which, it looks like Karen has, also." 

"She says it's Daria's bad influence."

"Change of subject: do you suppose they'll have breakfast ready soon?" 

"It's probably waiting for us."

* * *

Hearing many voices, Michael and Daria wandered into the dining room. Karen's immediate family was already seated, including her brother, sister-in-law and baby nephew. Karen stood and said, "Daria, you remember Terry, that's Jill and the really cute one is Wayne." Waving at the newcomers, she said, "The two sleepyheads are Daria and Michael."

After a round of greetings, Maddie said, "Karen, why don't you get some plates ready for our guests?" 

"Okay, Ma," Karen said while walking to the kitchen. "We have fresh scrambled eggs, ham, grits and toast with Grandma's peach preserves. Follow me."

Michael said, "It all sounds good."

"I figured that. How much?"

"Oh, two eggs, ham slice, two toast, and, um, not so much of the grits."

"You'll learn about good food eventually. Daria?"

A loud knock came from the front door, followed by a man hollering, "Morning!" 

Maddie dropped her forehead onto one hand. "Rick. Don't have to worry about calling him late for dinner…he's always early." 

Jill, a medium-framed, pleasant faced blonde, said, "I hope he left the corn liquor at home this time."

Rising to go to the front door, Geoff said, "That would be a first." 

From the other room, Rick said, "Hmm. I smell breakfast; talk about lucky timing."

Daria gazed uncertainly at the direction of the voice. "Uh, one egg and a slice of ham. A piece of toast and the peach stuff."

"Got it." Karen rocked her head in the approaching relative's direction. She then rolled her eyes, saying, "And so it begins."

* * *

Late in the morning, Jane jogged from her car to the MacKenzies' front door. Just as she raised one hand to the bell, the door swung open and Colin grinned to see her. "Glad you could make it, Jane."

She gave the stocky, muscled man a hug. "How you are, Colin?"

"About as well as you can expect around here," he joked as he closed the door behind them. "Sleeping on the couch, horrible cookin' and a son with no respect."

Jane said, "Yeah, I can tell you're starving."

"What's that lying man telling you, this time?" Leesha MacKenzie stepped into the living room from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a check-patterned hand towel.

"The usual," Jane said, giving the large woman a big hug. "Nothing that I'd believe."

"Smart girl, Jane. Now if we can just get some meat on your bones." 

"I'm sure you're going to try your best, today," Jane said, playing along with the joke.

"You know it, hon."

"Mom," Mack said, coming up behind Jane and putting his arms around her waist.

"'Bout time you got here," Leesha said. "Leaving this poor girl to talk with your father all alone. If I hadn't come in, there's no telling what he might've told her."

"If you ever get a chance to meet her roommates," Mack said, "You'll know why I'm not worried about anything Dad can come up with, or you." 

"I remember meeting Daria at your graduation and I've heard the stories." She laughed and went back into the kitchen. "Kids these days. What are those darn colleges teaching them?" 

"I'm still trying to figure that one out," was Jane's answer.

Colin had already taken his favored position in his recliner and started the TV. "Mike, do you remember that one year we ate dinner with the Landons?"

Jane sat on the sofa next to Mack, leaning against him. She said, "That doesn't sound good."

Colin joked, "About the only way for Leesha and Michelle to be any more different, would be for one of them to be white."

Mack said, "With Mrs. Landon having the home court advantage."

"Have to admit that the food was tasty," Colin said. "Though I still can't figure out why they called that bird a turd-something." 

Jane said, "I think I know what you're talking about. It's one of those turkey/duck/chicken fusion things. Thought they only existed on _Sick, Sad World_ until one of the seniors made a sculpture out of one."

Leesha called from the kitchen, "That thing was a crime against nature!"

"Mom was not impressed. This, of course, offended Mrs. Landon." 

"Things went downhill from there. By the time dinner actually was ready, they were not talking to each other." He leaned forward and whispered, "For which we were all thankful." 

Mack said, "After dinner, Dad wanted to watch a football game and Mr. Landon a _Business Street Journal_ special on the upcoming holiday sales season."

"Oh, exciting," Jane said, dryly.

Mack said, "Dad and I, Jodie and Rachel all ended up in Rachel's room, watching an old Power Rangers video."

"I knew there was a reason I fit in around here; that sounds like a Lane reunion."

* * *

Daria looked at the large number of people gathered around the huge main dining table, plus at several smaller tables scattered in the living room and kitchen. At least thirty extended Meyerson family members were assembled in the family farmhouse to devour two huge turkeys, a pair of whole hams, and enough side dishes to feed an entire floor of a Raft dorm. 

Taking a break from feeding Wayne, Jill turned to Daria. She quietly told the overwhelmed-looking young woman, "I don't know all their names, either."

"Where'd they all come from? I mean, do they all live nearby?" Daria asked.

"They're scattered around the southern half of the state, plus a couple from north Florida and some others from Alabama."

"And they all gather here…why?"

"They don't want to cook?"

"Why does Mrs. Meyerson put up with it?" 

"She loves to cook and hosting is kind of a tradition that goes with the house. I think it's written into the deed or something."

"Gah!" Wayne voiced, bouncing up and down in Jill's lap.

"Pardon me." Jill spooned out some more baby food and offered it to Wayne. "Who'd have thought someone would get so excited by strained carrots?" 

Daria watched for a few moments, fascinated by the interaction of mother and child.

At one of the side tables, a group of young men and teenage boys looked at Karen and Derek, laughed and started singing Dixie.

Across the table from Daria, Karen shook her head, saying, "They're still giving me a hard time about dating a damnyankee."

"One word," Daria noted. "I haven't heard that since leaving Texas." 

Michael wiggled a finger in one ear, as if to try to clear it. "Do they always sing that badly?"

"Wait until Rick passes around a bottle of 'Tuesday was a Good Year'; they get worse, much worse."

"Daria, just bash my head in now and spare me."

"You're not getting out of it that easy," she warned.

Maddie stood and faced the singing boys. "That's enough." When they continued, she raised her voice slightly and commanded, "That's enough!" 

The singing fell off and the house fell silent. Geoff rose and clasped Maddie's hand, saying, "Let's take time to quietly contemplate what we are thankful for in our lives."

Maddie scanned the tables, her eyes enforcing the "quietly" part of Geoff's request.

Daria thought of her family and how, ironically, she felt closer to them. _Quinn, even though we live on opposite coasts, we talk more than we did in high school. Mom, I can't believe your strength of will and determination to recover, and I'm thankful you have the chance at all. Dad, despite your upbringing, family is your core strength and you'd be a lost soul without us. Michael…when did I start thinking of you as family?_

Michael felt Daria's hand on his. When he looked over, she was gazing up at his face with a warm smile. _Daria. I'm thankful for you and everything that brought us together. Mom, Dad, Gina, thank you for helping me become the person she loves._

* * *

Holding her stomach and moving slower than usual, Jane led Mack through Food Lord to the bakery section. "Tell your Mom, if that dinner didn't put some weight on me, nothing will."

Also feeling stuffed, he said, "She'll be proud to hear that."

"Did she always feed you like that?"

"Why do you think I was always working out? I had to burn off all that food somehow." 

She leaned against his arm and grinned. "I can think of a few ways to burn things off."

"I'm sure you can." He stopped by a rack of pies. "Lindy asked us to pick up pumpkin, right?"

"Yeah, she said her attempt was a little, um, brittle. But don't worry; she said the turkey was fine." 

He selected a pie. "Any preference?"

"One looks about like another to me. Go with what you've got."

Only a single register was open at the front of the store. They got in line behind a brunette holding a single TV dinner. Jane suddenly recognized the young woman and said, "Sandi? Sandi Griffin?" 

"Do I…" Sandi turned and recognized them. "Jane? Mack?"

Mack said, "Hey, what brings you here today?"

Sandi held up the microwavable package. "I figured I should at least have some turkey today."

"You're by yourself?" Jane asked.

"Yeah. My folks still won't talk to me. Tiffany moved to New York City last month and Stacy's off at a race. And Quinn, I'm sure you heard that her parents are visiting her this year."

Jane looked at the frost-edged box for several seconds. "Um, look, Mom and Dad are snowed in up in Finland and can't make it, so we have extra. If you want, you can join us, what's present of my family and some of their friends."

Sandi looked at her planned dinner. "Really?" 

"Really. I've…come to realize that nobody should be alone on a day like this."

* * *

At the edge of the beach, Helen looked at the front half of a broken surfboard parked on the sand next to the pavement edge. "What is that?"

Tammy said, "Your ride out onto the sand. I just waxed it and we tested it out. Works pretty good." She picked up a couple of ropes attached to the leading edge. "Just have a seat and we'll slide you right out there."

"You're kidding." 

Embarrassed, Tammy admitted, "Best we could come up with besides convincing a couple of strong and cute guys to carry you." 

Helen glanced at Quinn, not doubting that she could find such assistance. "If I see a camera, I'll sue your asses off." 

"No cameras," Quinn said.

Forcing herself not to rely on outside support, Helen gingerly stood and pivoted before slowly lowering herself to the board. Pleased with her success, she half-smiled at Quinn and waved her fingers to where Grace and Fran were finishing setting out the meal on a large blanket placed just above the beach wrack from the previous high tide. "You may proceed."

Pulling on the ropes, Quinn and Tammy slid Helen out to the picnic with little effort while Jake nervously hovered just behind in case anything happened.

Crawling from the board to the blanket, Helen mused about how this looked like something from her college days. Everyone was dressed leisurely in shorts and light shirts, tennis shoes or sandals. The girls had found nice baskets to hold the various dishes, replacing the original store packages. The warm sea breeze and the soft crash of the surf added to an ambience that simply felt right. When Jake sat beside Helen, she leaned against him and it felt like 1971, not 2001.

Later, while finishing her dinner, Quinn said to her parents, "I know she said it was only fair, since you spent last Thanksgiving with her and her friends, but I wish Daria was here."

"I miss her too, Quinn," Helen said.

Three young men jogged past behind Jake and Helen. One of them said to the others, "Lucky bastard. I hope I can get hot chicks like that when I'm old." 

Another said, "Five college girls? You know he's rich." 

"Just not freaking fair," the last said as they continued up the beach.

Helen half turned and asked, "Did they think I'm a college student?"

"Mrs. Morgendorffer, don't take this the wrong way; it's completely a compliment," Fran said. "You look good for someone your age."

Quinn said, looking down, "Well, duh. This kind of cute had to come from somewhere."

Feeling overwhelmed, Helen whispered, "Thank you."

Grinning, Jake said to her, "You look as good as you did the day I met you."

"Oh, Jakey," she cooed back.

Quinn held up her hands. "Mom, Dad. If you're getting any ideas, wait until you're back at the hotel."

* * *

Jane stared hard at the table Lindy had set. A delicately browned turkey on a large platter graced the center of the table, while around it were bowls of potatoes, gravy, green beans, salad, cranberry sauce, corn and the pumpkin pie. Each diner's setting was properly placed and the table appeared as something from a magazine. "Lindy, this looks almost...traditional."

Smiling with deserved pride, Lindy said, "Well, if you use your mother's ceramics, nothing will ever be completely traditional."

"Kind of like how I remembered from a long time ago," Sandi said, both sad and grateful.

"Sandi," Jane warned, "You're sitting next to Jesse. Make sure you don't let your hand drift too far toward his plate, especially if he's holding a fork."

The brunette studied the muscled, bare-chested man entering the room. "He is very attractive."

"That, he is," Jane agreed with a light chuckle.

"You say he was in a band with your brother for years, right?"

"Yep. Mystik Spiral."

"No wonder you didn't seem to pay much attention to guys in high school. Probably safe to say now, but before you started dating Tom Sloane, people thought you and Daria were, you know. Sorry."

"Yeah, we noticed, but didn't care that much. Don't worry about it, that was years ago." 

Slowly, everyone finished wandering in and sat down. Holding Trent's hand, Lindy said, "Thanks for coming to our home." 

Reaching for the turkey, Max said, "Thanks for inviting us over. This looks good."

Already dishing up mashed potatoes, Nick said, "Yeah. Maybe next year I can bring Ariel." 

Trent said, "That would be cool."

Holding the bowl of stuffing, Jesse said, "This smells better than Cluster Burger."

Taken aback by the young men's assault on the food, Sandi could only stare at them before asking Jane, "Um, have they like, eaten lately or anything?"

Jane said, "They're fairly well behaved today. Lindy must've given them a warning."

Lindy said to Sandi, "I hear that you're going to Lame-Ass U," using a well-worn in-joke among Lawndale State students.

"I might only go for this year and take an AA degree. Lawndale doesn't feel like home anymore. I'm thinking about moving to California, near Quinn. She's the closest I have to family, now."

"Quinn's a good friend who'll stand by you and tell you what you need to know, not just what you want to know," Lindy said with gratitude in her voice.

Mack said, "Sounds like her sister."

Jane poked his ribs with her elbow. "Better not let Daria hear you say that, even if it is true."

* * *

Outside the barn with Daria, Michael and Derek, Karen said, "Daria, you look shell shocked, but otherwise intact."

Glad to be outside and away from the crowd and noise, Daria said, "That happens every year?"

"More or less."

"Is that why there's a police car parked at the end of your driveway?" 

"That's just Rusty. He's waiting to make sure Great Aunt Kay is driving and not Rick."

"I'm glad somebody's making sure your uncle with the moonshine isn't behind the wheel. It's amazing you survived this long with your sanity intact." 

"Who says it's intact?"

"Good point." Scanning the ground carefully, Daria then asked, "Why are we going to the barn?"

"I thought it would be a good time to meet the horses we'll ride tomorrow. Don't worry; no riding lessons. I don't think any of us want to get into a saddle right now."

Daria clenched her teeth and forced her legs to keep moving. "You say you have a good horse for me, right?" 

"He's about the closest thing you'll find to a horse on valium. Junior's very mellow."

"Okay." 

Inside the barn, the first stall was occupied by a mid-sized black mare that reared her head and whinnied upon seeing Karen. "This is Elvira." She stroked the horse's cheek and fed it a carrot. "Hey, girl, I can tell you're glad to see me."

Michael said, "Let me guess, you also liked _Black Beauty_ as a kid."

"Loved it," Karen replied, rubbing Elvira's neck.

Daria shook her head. "I can't believe you named your horse after a TV vampire known for her boobage-revealing clothes."

Karen laughed, "It's also a joke on an old Oak Ridge Boys song." They moved to the next stall, where a tall, chestnut stallion waited. Karen gave him a carrot and said, "Derek, you remember Lancer."

He approached and patted the horse's cheek. "Yep. Good boy." 

A chestnut mare was in the next stall. Karen said, "Michael, this is Lucinda."

Remembering what he had learned several years earlier at camp, Michael came up to the side of the horse's head and stroked the top of her snout. "Hi there." 

While Michael petted Lucinda, Karen led Daria to the last stall. A massive, gray gelding calmly munched on some oats, watching them. Daria looked at it and said, "'Very funny. Now, where's the horse I'm going to be riding?"

"That's him, that's Junior."

"He's huge."

"Percherons tend to be large. They started out as warhorses for armored knights." 

"Karen, really, this isn't funny."

"I'm serious. He's the best choice for you to ride."

"Come on."

"He's a retired draft horse who used to pull wagons and buggies for the Wilsons. If a horse can pull it, Mr. Wilson will collect it. Junior pulled the hay rides at the county fair for years. If a horse can stay calm with fifteen screaming kids behind him, he'll stay calm with you on his back. He's big and not very maneuverable. He's also getting up there in years and prefers to take everything at a nice, easy pace."

"Like a retiree's Cadillac."

"Basically. Come here and say hi. Walk up to the side of his head, so he can see you. Don't act scared, it tends to make the horse nervous."

"Don't act scared. Sure, no problem."

"Junior has more experience with nervous people than other horses, but acting confident will make things easier, all the way around."

"Okay, confident." Daria took a breath and stepped forward, reaching to touch the horse's cheek. Junior lightly snorted, and then leaned his head to move Daria's hand to the top of his snout.

Karen said, "He likes you and wants you to scratch right there." 

Reminded of Bump doing something similar, Daria asked, "Are you sure there isn't a cat somewhere among his relatives?"

* * *

Helen felt refreshingly relaxed as Quinn pushed her wheelchair through the empty Pepperhill campus. The mission style architecture and elegant palm trees clashed with her old ideas of what a college should look like, but with Quinn, it seemed like a perfect match.

Quinn pointed and said, "There's a story that says, if someone graduates from Pepperhill without a good tan, the Nixon Tower will collapse." 

Walking alongside, Jake grumbled, "How'd that crook get a building named after him?"

Quinn looked at him in confusion. "Henry Nixon was one of the school founders. I've never heard anyone mention that he was a crook."

Helen said, "I suppose that's a better story than what they say about General Middleton's statue where your father and I went to school." 

Jake laughed. "But like they say, he's still in the saddle."

Catching on, Quinn said, "Dad…ewww."

* * *

There was a slight chill in the air the next morning as Michael, seated on Lucinda, tried to aim his camera at Daria sitting astride Junior, her small frame looking comically out of scale atop the large horse. "Hold still." 

Daria frowned at him and squirmed in the wide saddle, trying to get comfortable. "My ass doesn't fit on this thing." 

"You remind me of Jeanne d'Arc at the siege of Orléans." 

"I'd feel safer in a suit of armor. At least you're not picturing me as Lady Godiva."

_Hmm._

Seeing the glint in his eye, Daria groaned. "I really shouldn't have said that."

Riding Elvira at a trot, Karen came around a corner from the other side of the barn. She stopped easily beside Daria. "You're not slouching; good. Must be remembering something from summer camp."

"All this time I thought 'don't slouch' was just the camp counselors' generic advice and not something I really needed to know about riding," Daria said in return.

"But you're way too stiff. That's going to make it harder to stay on, and harder for Junior to keep you on his back."

Daria said, "I think this is going to be as relaxed as I can get."

Karen moved next to Daria. "You can do it. You're too pig-headed not to."

Still feeling nervous about the entire enterprise, Daria said, "Oink." 

"That's the spirit. Don't forget, you're not just riding on your butt; distribute your weight between your feet on the stirrups and your thighs on the saddle."

"Spread out and do more damage that way."

"No, you'll do less damage. You ride all day with your weight only on your butt cheeks and you're really gonna regret it tonight."

"Oh, that makes me feel better. Although, I wonder about the idiot that first thought getting onto the back of a large, fast animal was a good idea."

"I bet the choice between riding a horse or becoming dinner for a saber cat was pretty easy." 

"That hasn't exactly been a worry the last couple of years."

"Come on. Besides, if you don't like it, just think of the payback you'll inflict on me."

"In that case…"

* * *

Looking back over his shoulder, Derek said, "I don't see how anyone could stand being in a mall today, of all days." 

"Black Friday's the high holy day of shopping. My sister missing that would be like the Pope skipping out on Christmas services."

"What about your parents?" Karen inquired. "Think they're with Quinn?"

"No. That would be like me trying to keep up with Jane when she's running."

Karen stopped at a fork in the wooded trail. "Hey guys, would you mind waiting here for a little while? Um, girl stuff, be back in a little while."

Derek shrugged and said, "Okay."

"Not at all," Michael said. "I can use a stop myself."

Daria followed Karen down the side trail and when they were out of sight of the boys, said, "I hope you really don't need someone to help you pee."

"I'm quite able to do that on my own. No, I want you to meet somebody."

Daria looked through the thinning trees along the trail ahead of them. "Karen, that looks like a cemetery."

"It is."

At the forest edge, Karen dismounted and tied Elvira to a tree branch. "Wait here, girl."

Daria looked at the ground. "I was really hoping not to get down until the end of the day. That way, I wouldn't have to go through the embarrassment of getting back up here."

Karen grasped Junior's bridle and patted the horse. "It's really kind of rude to ride on the grounds." 

"This better not be a joke."

"No joke."

Daria leaned forward and managed to swing her right leg over the saddle back before unceremoniously sliding to the ground. "No one will ever call that ladylike."

"We're not going far." Karen led the way, while her attitude changed from playful to serious. She stopped beside a headstone decorated with carnations carved into the face. Below the stone bouquet was inscribed:

**Laura Deanna Austin   
June 3, 1981 - October 17 1998**

"Hi, Laura, I'd like you to meet Daria," Karen softly said. "Daria, Laura was one of my best friends in high school. What happened to her is why I was so worried about you when you got weird about your weight." 

"Seventeen," Daria said, reading the dates. 

"Bulimia. We…I never saw it, or realized it, or something. We used to joke about how much she could eat, but didn't know what was going on until she was put in the hospital. Then it was too late."

"Then you learned everything you could about eating disorders."

Karen nodded. "Seeing you wear baggy clothes and get upset about your weight scared me." 

Daria squatted beside the grave. "I don't know if I'd have gone as far, but I had a few messed up ideas about myself. Karen, I'm glad you butted in." She looked up to say, "Thanks. Next time we're in Lawndale, I need to introduce you to Theresa Blaine."

"I'll look forward to it." Karen looked back at the horses. "We better get going before our boyfriends get bored and try to find something to entertain themselves."

Back on the trail, Michael said, "Daria and Karen aren't the type to go off the restroom together; I wonder what they're really up to."

"Considering Karen has the knowledge and practical experience to make a stallion a gelding, I'm not in a hurry to look."

"Good point."

* * *

"Almost back," Karen said. "Just the other side of the pasture."

"Good. I'm trying my best to spread out the weight, but my butt is getting tired," Daria said.

"Mine, too," said Michael. 

"Hope you don't mind, but I want to get Elvira up to a nice gallop for a lap or two. Trail riding is fun, but sometimes you want speed."

"Right behind you," Derek said. 

Daria waved. "Have fun."

Karen and Derek led their horses away, bringing them to a fast gallop across the pasture. Following, Michael and Daria found Lucinda and Junior impatient to follow. Michael said, "Want to try a little faster?"

Daria patted Junior's neck. "He's actually been very careful with me. This is probably against my better judgment, but okay."

Michael leading, they started at a light trot, which the horses seemed to appreciate. He noticed that Daria seemed to be relaxing more and faintly smiling. He switched between watching ahead and checking on her.

Daria felt a sense of freedom and lightness, like she'd imagined as a child reading Black Beauty and had hoped to capture at Camp Grizzly. This isn't so bad. Daria noticed a sudden surge and smoothing of gait as Junior shifted to a gallop, but she was so intent on how she felt, the increased speed didn't register is her mind.

At the end of the pasture, Karen guided Elvira into a wide turn and started laughing when she saw Daria and Michael's horses now running freely. She pointed and yelled to Derek, "I think we have a convert!" 

Younger and more agile, Lucinda had pulled ahead of Junior. When Michael turned, he noticed that they were riding at top speed. Daria's hair waved in the wind rushing past her head. "I've got to get a shot of this." Holding the reins in his right hand, Michael took the camera from his jacket pocket and turned again to Daria, trying to get her in the frame as the horse bounced along. After several bad shots, he finally got a good frame and captured the picture.

Sliding the camera back in his pocket, Michael saw a hole in the ground just ahead a fraction too late to prepare for Lucinda's dodge. His fall backward pulled hard enough on the reins to slow the horse somewhat before he tumbled off and hit the ground, bouncing and rolling.

Despite her reverie, Daria immediately saw Michael's spill and almost instinctively pulled back on the reins to slow, and then stop, Junior. Unhesitant, she was out of the saddle and running to Michael's side as he sat up. "Michael! Are you hurt?"

"Nothing worse than a bruised ego," he said. Panicked, he reached into his pocket. "My camera!" 

"I don't care about the camera; we can replace that." Daria scolded, still worried.

Feeling a few aches as he stood, Michael switched the camera back on and checked the last recorded frame. His breath relaxed and he held it out for Daria to see. "No, but I don't think I could replace the picture."

* * *

In the scattered crowd before the airport security lines, Quinn leaned down to embrace Helen. "Thank you so much for coming out. It really meant a lot to me."

"Our pleasure, Quinn. Thank you for being such a gracious host."

When she stood, Jake hugged her. "Bye, Quinn. Hope the old man didn't embarrass you too much." 

"Oh, Daddy. How could you embarrass me?"

He joked, "I could rant about my father to your friends." 

"Okay, that would embarrass me. Speaking of my friends, how do you like them?"

"You have good taste in associates," Helen said, reaching to the left side of her face and remembering Fran's strength. "You can learn a lot from them. I have."

"I'll tell them that." Quinn reluctantly checked her watch. "You need to get through security. Goodbye, I'll see you at Christmas."

"Bye, honey," Helen said. "We'll be waiting for you." 

"Take care, sweetheart," Jake said. "You'll always be my little girl."

"Thanks, Daddy. Bye." 

Watching Quinn, with her even tan and fashionably short hair, disappear into the crowd, Helen reached for Jake's hand. "She's found her new home."

Knowing his wife was right, Jake put his other hand on Helen's. "Our girls have grown up." 

"That, they have."

* * *

Mack flipped the trunk lid down on Jane's car and was surprised to see Sandi's car stop along the curb.

She opened the door and stood, looking over the roof. "Um, thank you."

"You're welcome," Jane said.

"Also, I wanted to say…um, you can also tell Daria, you're good friends."

Jane smiled, touched by Sandi's sincerity. "I'll tell her."

* * *

Favoring his right leg, Michael took his suitcase from Daria's car trunk. "It's been a great trip."

Daria embraced him. "Next time, try not to bang yourself up so much."

"It's only a little deep bruising and sore muscles."

Daria pulled away some. "You scared me. Please be careful. You're important to me. I love you."

"I love you," he answered, then leaned down to kiss her. "Lunch tomorrow?" he asked when they parted.

"Always thinking with your stomach. Okay, call my cell tomorrow so we can figure out where. I'm too tired to think that much tonight."

"Got it."

"Oh, and I want a copy of that picture. If you're going to risk life and limb, I want evidence."

"Yes, dear. You know, the Monday after the break two years ago was when you first agreed to go out with me."

"Has it really been two years already?" Daria asked. She also remembered how her parents' story of how they met influenced her decision.

"Trust me, I'll never forget that. It was one of the best days of my life. We can come up with something special, okay?"

"Deal. Goodnight, Michael."

"Goodnight."

After another kiss, Michael watched Daria drive away to drop Derek off at his apartment before she and Karen went home to theirs. Silent, he went into his apartment building and up the stairs. Images floated through Michael's head as he unlocked the apartment door: Daria sitting in the biology class where they met; her walking into the dorm lobby at the start of their first date; the joy on her face upon opening her first Christmas present.

He walked through the dark silence to his room. More memories came to him: sleeping beside her the night of Jane's birthday, when an ice storm forced them to stay at BFAC, the sunny day on the Quad he first said he loved her; the broken sadness in her eyes the day he prematurely asked her to marry him, and she correctly said, "No." Michael reached into his closet and took out a blue velvet box, opening it to see the emerald and gold ring inside.

"You've become so much a part of my life; I can't imagine it without you."

He thought of their reconciliation and the joy of hearing her first say, "I love you." Not looking away from the ring, he sat on the bed. Without a break, the memories continued: Thanksgiving the year before under the cloud of that stalker; their first night together; Spring Break in that cabin. He winced when thinking of his hangover after Trent's bachelor party, and beamed at how angelic Daria looked as Amy's maid of honor. He also remembered the reception, when Karen and Jane convinced Daria it was okay to dance with someone else and one handsome military cadet who tried to kiss her. Daria's polite refusal of the man killed the jealousy that had started to well inside Michael.

"I know her commitment. I…nobody…could ask for more."

He gently closed the ring box and stood to place it back on the shelf, as he'd done so many times before. However, this time he went to his dresser and instead, placed the box on top.

* * *

Thanks to Angelinhel for horse and horse riding information that kept me from looking like an idiot.

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading 

January-February 2007


	6. Another Day in Paradise

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2006.

This is the fifty-fourth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Another Day in Paradise**

"…town Boston!" the clock/radio in Michael's room blared. "Currently, it's a warm 52 degrees on this Monday morning, November 26 and your first day back to work after stuffing your face all weekend. Looks like a cloudy day with a slight chance of rain and a high in the low to mid sixties."

"Ungh," Michael groaned, opening one eye to see that the clock did, indeed, say 6:00 AM.

The radio DJ loudly continued, "But don't worry, you have Bing and the Spatula Man on Wee93 to help you make it through the morning. That is, unless you're driving around the Big Dig…in that case, nobody can help you!"

Michael rubbed his face and reached to the nightstand for his glasses. "Another day in paradise."

"That's right, Bing," the second announcer said. "We may be mental, but we're nothing compared to the people who brought you that hole in the ground!"

"But tell you what," Bing said, "the third caller with their 'Worst Big Dig is a pain in the ass' story will get a Wee93 bumper sticker/t-shirt combo!"

Michael sat up and said to the radio, "Ooh, then I'll have a real trendy wardrobe and car." He reached over and turned it off before climbing from bed, making a face at his sore leg and hip. Scratching himself through his old shorts, he walked with a limp to the apartment's single bathroom for a quick shower and a reasonable attempt at becoming human.

* * *

Showered and dressed, Michael stood at the kitchen counter, pouring milk into a mug of coffee. Lewis appeared from his room, clad in a bathrobe and slowly shuffling to the bathroom. He muttered, "I see you survived the southern wilds."

"Mostly," Michael answered. "I only have a slight limp."

Lewis shook his head in mock disappointment. "I told you to run if you heard _Dueling Banjos_; guess you were a little slow. What happened?"

"I fell off of a horse."

"Mmm, using faster transportation, smart man. Well, except the falling off part."

"I got a great picture of Daria in the process, so it was worth it."

"It better be good if you did that to get it. Now pardon me while I go shower off last night's bar funk."

Michael carried the mug and a plate of scrambled eggs to his room and started his computer, looking at his growing collection of historical artifact replicas, such as a Roman legion standard or a doubloon from the _Nuestra Señora de Atocha_ or a US colonial era pewter mug. He then sipped coffee and ate breakfast while going through his morning email, interest groups and news. Excited, he connected his camera and transferred the image files to his hard drive. He browsed the folder, found the image he wanted and opened it.

He frowned slightly, seeing the image was a little blurred from camera shaking, but he had to admit it wasn't bad for something taken from horseback. In the picture, Daria faced the camera while riding a gray horse, her hair flowing back in the wind and a bright smile on her face. "Still worth it," he said and stood up to load photo paper in his printer. "Daria's going to love this."

* * *

Dressed, Michael loaded a book bag and slung it over his shoulder. Next, he grabbed a gym bag containing a folded work uniform and stepped over to his dresser. He paused for a moment, looking at a blue velvet ring box on top. He took a deep breath and picked it up, transferring it to his inner jacket pocket.

Eating a barely heated frozen waffle, Lewis watched Michael cross the room and said, "You look like a man on a mission."

"You could say that." 

"Hope you fly it better than a P-51 and don't get shot down."

"You spent a lot of the weekend on that game, didn't you?"

"A couple hours. Anyway, whatever you're up to, good luck."

"Thanks."

* * *

The gray-haired woman underlined the words "Chapter 12" on the whiteboard and said, "We start on the last chapter Wednesday. That's right kids; we're in the home stretch. Any questions?"

A girl with wavy, blond hair a row behind Michael asked, "Are the term papers still due this Friday, Professor Blum?"

"Yes, Clarice, no change in plans," the instructor replied. "And don't forget, I want hard copies as well as disk. Anything else?" Hearing no replies, she said, "Class dismissed."

Outside the room, a young man with close-cropped black hair said, "Michael, holiday trip go that badly that you have a limp, or that good?" The last was added with a laugh as he pulled a hand from the pocket of a black leather jacket to slap Michael on the shoulder.

"A little bit of both," Michael said.

Behind them, Clarice finished pulling her book bag over her shoulders and said, "Sean, there's no need to give him a load of crap just because you can't get a girl."

"You offering?" Sean replied.

She half-rolled her eyes. "You wish."

"Just asking."

Clarice then said, "So, what were you two doing on the horse that made you fall off?"

Michael moaned. "We were not on the same horse."

"Ooh, two horses, kinky."

"Two horses? What are you pervs talking about now?" a trench-coat wearing fourth student said as he joined them.

"Hey, Jack," Michael answered. "Just the pathetic imaginations of our friends."

"I don't know; two horses sounds like pretty vivid imaginations to me." 

Michael pulled his backpack off and took a large envelope from a pocket. "Will you settle for photographic evidence?" 

Clarice took the photo of Daria riding and said, "Ah, that's cute. Not as tantalizing, but cute."

Sean and Jack looked over her shoulder. Sean said, "I bet she was ready to ride something else afterwards."

Clarice glanced back and sarcastically said, "Smooth. No wonder you get all the girls."

Michael took the photo back from them saying, "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to call Daria to figure out what we're doing for lunch."

Just outside of the building exit, Michael stopped at a pay phone while his friends scattered to their next classes. He dialed and waited patiently.

After a couple rings, Daria answered, "Hello."

"Hey, it's me. How does Thai sound for lunch?"

Tired and irritated, Daria said, "I can't make it today. My car wouldn't start this morning and the mechanic just gave me a ransom note for $450. I'm on a bus now, heading to Lethbridge-Stewart Middle to sit in on a class with one of the mentor teachers and running late, so it'll be the class after the one originally scheduled. All that means that I won't have time for lunch today."

Michael moved the phone away and sighed. Bringing it back, he said, "Will dinner after work help? I'll pick you up."

"Sounds great. Just be prepared for a very grumpy girlfriend."

"Thanks for the warning. I think I have something that might just cheer you up."

"Oh?"

"It's a surprise." 

"A surprise, huh. Don't forget that I'll be wearing my boots."

"I'm hoping that they won't be needed. See you at 5:30?"

"5:30, it's a date." After a moment, Daria added, "I love you."

"I love you. Hope the rest of your day goes well."

"Thanks, but facing a room full of screaming kids and then a psycho boss, I wouldn't bet on it."

"I can still hope. Bye." 

"Bye."

He patted the ring box in his jacket. "I hope this cheers you up."

* * *

Professor Mahanoor's office was the cluttered stereotype often expected for college faculty. Books, folders and loose papers covered almost every available surface, with a single potted plant surviving on the window ledge. He was a good-humored, olive-skinned man whose soft voice was often missed in a crowd, but carried clearly in a classroom. He studied information on his computer monitor while Michael waited before saying, "Your choice of classes looks good and all of them are in your program of study. Though in the future, I would like you to pick up a little more variety in your restrictive electives, but that's a personal preference."

Michael glanced over his advisor's shoulder at a small sign that read, "An advisor is like a diaper, all over your ass and usually full of crap." He said, "You still think I need some more Asian studies." 

"Yes, I think you would benefit and it would help to balance your historical view."

"With most of my upper division requirements covered after spring semester, that's something I can work in my senior year, when I have more leeway." 

Prof. Mahanoor smiled and said, "I'll remind you of that when you register for fall." He then took a pen from an old cup on his desk and signed a form resting beside his keyboard. He checked the carbon copies and passed it to Michael. "There you go." 

Collecting his advising form, Michael said, "Thanks." 

"Are you well, Mr. Fulton?" Prof. Mahanoor asked. "You're normally not nervous about advising sessions" 

"Um, it's not the advising, I just have other things on my mind."

"Anything to do with your studies or school?"

"Oh, um, no. It's personal stuff." 

"You're a level-headed young man; I'm sure that you'll figure out what to do."

Michael started to rise from his chair. "I know what I'm going to do, but I have to wait until tonight."

"Well then, good luck."

* * *

After his last class of the morning, Michael walked to Brandt Hall, home of the Engineering Department. From among a group of students gathered outside the main doorway, a tall black man wearing mirrored shades waved and stepped over toward Michael. His old roommate said, "What brings you to the light side of campus?"

"Hey, Todd," Michael said in greeting. "Just on my way to lunch." 

Todd started walking with his friend. "Bullshit. Something's on your mind and you came to hear my wisdom, now spill it."

Michael briefly glanced at Todd. "You know me too well."

"You live close enough to smell someone's dirty socks for a year; you learn a few things about them. Now, what's up, and does it have anything to do with that limp?" 

"A little bit. I got the limp over the weekend when I went to Daria's roommate's parents' farm."

"Okay, so this involves your girlfriend. How badly did you screw up?" 

"Haven't you read the school paper's story about me falling off of a horse?" Michael sarcastically said.

Following the joke, Todd shook his head. "You know I don't read that rag. So, you fell off of a horse, then what?"

"I started thinking."

"You know how dangerous that can get. Did you say something stupid?"

Michael pulled the ring box from his pocket and rolled it in his hands. "I haven't said anything yet and I don't think it's stupid."

Todd laughed at the sight of the box. "It's about time you did something with that instead of pining over it in your closet. Don't look all shocked, you did a crappy job of hiding it."

"Oh." 

"Let me guess, you're scared spitless."

"I am rather nervous since this will be the second try."

"If it means anything, I think your head is screwed on tighter than when I first met you."

"Thanks."

Todd tapped on the box. "That thing better not be empty." 

Michael opened it to show a yellow gold band set with a single marquis-cut emerald. "She's very fond of green." 

"That's a cool rock," Todd said, followed with a whistle. "You get points for style. What's the plan after this?" 

"Pick her up from work for dinner and ask sometime after that."

Todd eyes widened. "Playing it by ear? That takes some big ones."

"I don't have a choice since my original plan fell through."

"So that was your screw-up."

Michael explained, "No, her car broke down, which meant she couldn't meet me for lunch."

"When you planned to ask…"

"Yes."

"Ah, now things are becoming a little clearer. Life pulled the rug out from under you and you're still trying to keep from falling on your face."

Michael groaned. "A great turn of phrase. You should become a motivational speaker."

"I try. Look at it this way, you still have lunch and all afternoon at work to come up with a plan."

"There is that. Any ideas or advice?"

"Don't get so nervous that you puke," Todd suggested.

"Handy, I'll try to remember that." 

"In that case, my work is done. Good luck." 

"Thanks."

Todd veered away and said, "You'll do fine…just don't eat a big dinner."

Michael stopped. "Thanks, I really needed that."

* * *

Actually buoyed by his conversation with Todd, Michael jogged across the street to the line of eateries and bars next to the Raft campus. He chose a place called "Bow Thai" and fought his way through the takeout line to grab his lunch.

Going out of his way upon exiting the restaurant, Michael carried his takeout bag to a bench outside Newton Hall, the biology and chemistry building. He looked at the bench for several seconds before sitting down with a smile on his face. _Two years ago at this bench, Daria first agreed to go out with me. Too bad her car broke down today; asking her here would've been a nice touch._

Michael unpacked his lunch and started to eat his garlic curry beef while remembering that day. He recalled things like his complete surprise at the change in her answer after turning him down before the Thanksgiving holiday, followed by the stumbling attempts to plan a first date. Michael chuckled at how nervous they each were. Sipping his Thai coffee, the thought of how the rest of that day seemed to pass with him walking on air; even Ken, his offensive roommate that year, didn't bother him that day.

Just before Michael finished his lunch, he knew he had a plan for the evening. He packed the trash back within the bag and dropped it into a nearby trash can. Michael turned and looked at the spot Daria had sat on that day, quietly saying, "I hope you like what I've planned for tonight."

* * *

The remaining staff parking space was narrow and Michael had to maneuver carefully to slip his car into the slot. It required just as much careful effort for him to squeeze out of the car in the narrow space left between vehicles. Carrying his gym bag, he jogged across the parking lot to the Freedom Trail Visitor Center's staff entrance. He quickly changed to his green uniform in the restroom. Feeling that it wouldn't be safe anywhere but on him, Michael placed the ring in his shirt pocket. Next, he placed his regular clothes in the bag and then went back out to the staff room to place it and his jacket in a locker.

Walking past a couple other staff members finishing their lunch, Michael checked the duty board and sighed with gratitude. "Visitor Center. Good, I don't have to run around as much today."

From below the duty board, Michael picked up a clipboard with a work checklist with "Visitor Center" marked on top. Going down it, the topmost unmarked line was "Check and replace light bulbs."

He tossed the board in the air, spinning it and saying, "Yee-haw," as he walked out into the hallway. Following a second page on the clipboard, he started checking room by room, recording burned out light bulbs. At his boss's office, he knocked on the open door's frame. "Hi, Mr. Morrison, just checking the lights."

In his late fifties, Amos Morrison's head was crowned with thinning white hair. A product of the career service system, he barely glanced up as Michael noted the two dark florescent tubes. "I noticed the light in the back of the office supply closet is flickering."

"Thanks for the heads up."

His boss grunted in reply.

After completing the staff rooms, he went out into the public area of the center to continue scouting. The crowd was thin, with only a few scattered tourists and one tour group of high school students. He started around the main lobby, checking the display cases and interpretive stations.

A man tapped Michael on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me. Why isn't the Samuel Adams brewery on the tour?"

Confused, Michael said, "Pardon?" 

"Why isn't the Samuel Adams brewery on the tour?" 

_Tourons. I hope I can keep my cool._ Michael forced himself to be polite. "That's not a historical establishment." 

"Don't tell me that!" the man said, becoming belligerent. "Samuel Adams was one of the founding greats of our country."

Michael took a breath. "Yes, sir. However, the brewery is only named after Samuel Adams, he didn't start it."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Let's put it this way; if the government was running the brewery, do you think the beer would taste good?"

The man rubbed his chin. "Hmm, yeah, I hadn't thought of that. Something from the government would probably make Billy Beer taste great. Sorry to bother you."

Michael gave him a polite smile. "No problem, sir."

"Oh, one more question. When's the tea party?"

* * *

Standing on an aluminum ladder, Michael reached overhead and jiggled a light drop panel back into place. "Got it. Nguyen, what's next?" he asked as he climbed down.

Releasing his brace hold on the ladder once Michael was on the floor, the slightly pudgy park ranger looked at the clipboard resting on a cart holding new bulbs and tubes on top and discards underneath. He said, "That was the last one."

Michael checked his watch. "Great, it looks like I might be able to get out of here a little early. Daria's car broke down and I promised her a ride plus dinner."

"Ah, I remember when I was dating my wife," Nguyen said. "I kind of miss those days and the little edge of uncertainty that you don't have once a ring's on your finger."

Folding the ladder, Michael said, "You miss the uncertainty?"

"It gave things a little extra excitement, knowing that you could lose her at any moment. It also kept me on my toes, and a little more honest."

Michael gave him a doubtful look, making Nguyen laugh. "Okay, you caught me."

"You talk about your wife and kids too much to make that line believable."

"Oh yeah, that's right." Nguyen said, pushing the cart while Michael carried the ladder to the equipment supply room.

"How are they?"

"They're wonderful. My oldest is in a school play and my youngest is now certain she's going to be a painter."

"Better be careful with her, they can be wild. Daria's roommate is one."

"She'll probably want to be a paratrooper next week."

They reached the custodial equipment room and put everything away. While reaching up to hang the ladder on storage hooks, Michael realized that his shirt pocket was open and empty. "Dammit!"

Nguyen hurried over. "You okay?"

Michael spun around, looking. "I dropped something out of my pocket. Dammit! I should've left it in my locker, but I thought it'd be safer with me."

Not seeing anything out of place, Nguyen said, "What are we looking for?" 

Michael gestured with one hand. "A blue box about this big."

Nguyen raised one eyebrow and said, "I'll start backtracking where we've been and check with lost and found." 

Crawling on the floor to look under the shelf units, Michael said, "Thanks. I'll start the other way after I finish here." 

Going back to the lobby, Nguyen trotted over to the information desk. "Marie, has anyone turned in a blue box about this big?" he asked the attendant.

"Nothing like that, why?"

"Michael lost it and he's really upset."

"Nope, I haven't seen it, sorry." 

"Thanks; I'll have to keep looking."

It took about five minutes to check all the fixtures they had serviced in the public areas, with no luck. After another ten minutes of examining the staff rooms, he met Michael, who asked, "Find it?" 

"No, I'm sorry."

Michael slumped against a wall. "Dammit, dammit, dammit."

Worried for the young man, Nguyen suggested, "Look, why don't we check the lost and found again? Maybe someone turned it in while we were looking." 

Holding back tears, Michael said, "Can't hurt." 

At least half a dozen staff members were gathered around the information desk when they approached. One of the office receptionists said, "There he is!"

The group turned. Several started to clap and one whistled. The remaining tourist family in the hall looked over with curiosity.

"I think someone found the box…and opened it," Nguyen said. 

Heart pounding, Michael ran over to the desk. Marie held the open box in her hand. "I hear this is yours, but the bet is that it won't be for much longer."

"Thank God!" he said. "Who found it?"

Mr. Morrison calmly said, "It was in the office supply room, sitting on a shelf. You should probably be more careful, son."

Michael smacked his head. "Doh! I took it out when I replaced the bulbs in that back fixture; it's half-covered by a shelf and you have to be a contortionist to reach it. I didn't want the box catching on something and coming out."

Conspiratorially, Nguyen said to the others, "He's meeting his girl after work. I think we know what's planned."

More clapping caused Michael to turn almost as red as his hair.

Marie giggled and asked, "So, do we get to throw you a wedding shower?"

"Um…" 

"Oh, you probably want it back," she said, grinning.

Coming out of shock, Michael said, "Yes, please, thanks," and took the open box from Marie.

The receptionist who first spotted him said, "Ooh, a shower could be fun. Can we, Mr. Morrison?"

He scratched his head. "You'll have to run that by the social committee."

Marie looked around the group, counting. "We have a quorum. All those in favor?"

Hers and three more hands went up. 

"Unanimous. Okay, now we just need a date." 

Michael stammered, "Um…I think Daria needs to agree, first."

Marie said, "If a girl turns down a rock like that, I'm kicking her ass."

"And, um, even then, it probably won't be right away or anything."

Nguyen said, "We can wait."

* * *

The day's anxiety added to his normally short patience with Boston traffic, Michael shouted, "Move it!" at a car taking up both lanes as it slowly exited the parking lot of Raft's University Press. Hearing a horn blow behind him as he waited for the entrance to clear, he shouted over his shoulder, "Blow it out of your ass!" Once into the parking lot, he slowed and used the delay to calm down so he wouldn't spoil the evening. Once ready, he drove to the front of the office, where Daria was waiting on the steps. She stomped to the car and yanked the door open before throwing her pack into the back seat. "What a day!"

"Things didn't improve after we talked?"

She looked up at the car's headliner. "Oh, taking my car into the shop was the high point of the day." 

"I, uh, hope what I have in mind will cheer you up." 

"With how I feel, it had better be something good."

* * *

Daria leaned her head against the car window. "Because I went to visit a different class, I had about five minutes to get a handle on the day's activity. Middle school students will circle an unprepared teacher like sharks around chum. Hungry sixth graders are a scary sight."

"Good thing you're a fast learner?" Michael hazarded to say.

"They'd have eaten me alive otherwise."

"What about the mentor?"

"She only had to step in toward the end…after one of the kids barfed on me."

Michael glanced at Daria's blue slacks and maroon blouse. "I didn't think I'd seen you wear that before." 

"One of the other teachers used her planning period to run down to the Overstock Outlet to pick this up for me. I had to wait in the teachers' lounge in an oversized loaner dress until she got back."

"What happened to your other clothes?" 

"The janitor's washing them and I can get them back tomorrow."

"That's something, right?" 

"Barely. Waiting for clothes meant that I had to eat lunch on the bus to work…and I was an hour late getting there. Dr. Findlay wasn't amused."

"Uh-oh."

"He went off on a long rant about punctuality and responsibility. I swear, if I'd had them with me, I'd have dumped my puke-covered clothes on his desk and asked if he wanted me to wear them around the office all afternoon."

"That guy is really an ass. I know the work experience is great, but is the job really worth putting up with him?"

Daria closed her eyes and growled, "Michael, I really don't need you second-guessing me tonight." 

He waited for the sting of her retort to fade. "Since it's been two years since we first started going out, I figured we could go to that diner we went to on our first date."

"The one we visited after the movie?" Daria asked.

"That's the one."

"I think a greasy spoon will hit the spot tonight. They'd better have cheese fries."

"No worries about cholesterol tonight, I see."

"Screw the cholesterol, I want junk food."

"If we're lucky, maybe they'll have chili-cheese fries."

Daria gave him a quick glance. "Optimist."

* * *

Daria burped queasily and pushed her plate away. "I think we found where Speedy Lube gets rid of their old motor oil."

Michael looked at his half-eaten dinner and had to agree. He placed his silverware on top and took a long drink of tea to wash away the aftertaste. "I seem to remember it being better than this." 

Daria looked around for the waitress. "And the service has been almost as good as the food."

"Yeah," he replied, though the waitress hadn't been that bad, just overworked in a crowded diner.

Daria dropped her head on the table. "Ah well, a crappy ending to a crappy day."

"I'm sorry about the dinner. I have something that may…"

"Michael, stop." Daria sighed in anger as she looked up. "I'll appreciate your attempts to cheer me up in the morning, but right now, they're making matters worse."

"I'll get the check and then I can take you home, how's that?" he asked, irritated.

"Good idea."

"Um, yeah." Michael caught a glimpse of the waitress and waved.

The college-aged girl hurried over. "Yes?"

Michael said, "Can I have the check, please?"

"Would you like to-go boxes?"

Daria stared at her plate and growled, "My landlady frowns on me bringing home toxic waste." 

The waitress clenched her teeth and walked away.

Michael glared at Daria. "She didn't have anything to do with the food other than bringing it out."

"Look, I'm in a bad mood and not fit to be around people, okay?"

"Yeah, I can see that."

The waitress dropped off the check without slowing or looking at them. Michael grabbed it and said, "Be right back."

"I'll head out to the car…fewer people out there. If I'm lucky, I'll run into a mugger and I can shove my boot up his ass."

* * *

Michael parked his car behind Karen's pickup. "Looks like your partners in crime are home."

"Hopefully they'll be busy and won't bother me. I think Bump is the only company I can stand right now," Daria said as she opened the door.

Michael stood and looked over the car roof. "Dammit, I know you had a bad day, but couldn't you have at least given me a chance to cheer you up?" 

"You've been trying…very trying. It probably would've been best just to have come straight home from work."

"I was really hoping to make this a special night," he shouted more than spoke.

"You should know by now that when I get like this, just don't try to make things better."

"Yeah, and you know I normally do, but tonight was different!"

"Yeah, it was the anniversary of our first date. Look, they all can't be winners."

"It wasn't just that."

"Then what?"

Michael came around the car, pulling the box from his pocket. When he got to Daria, who was starting to back away, he dropped quickly to one knee, flinching as the gravel dug into the skin.

"What are you up to?" she asked, still angry, but also surprised and curious.

_God, please don't let me mess this up and hurt Daria again._ Michael calmed his voice and said, "A year and a half ago, I really screwed up and almost lost you. I might be screwing up again, but I really mean this: I love you and want to spend my life with you." He gently pressed the box into her hand and opened it. All of the day's anxiety vanished as Michael focused on his words. "Will you marry me?" 

Daria stared at him and slowly gulped. Starting to breathe raggedly, she raised the box to her face as the emerald glinted in the moonlight. She hoarsely whispered, "Marry you?"

He nodded.

"This is beautiful, but how did you find another?"

Michael smiled. "I didn't." 

Daria's eyes went wide in realization. "You've had this the whole time?"

"I never had the heart to return it after you called it perfect."

Chewing on her lower lip and blinking back tears, Daria asked, "This is what you had planned for tonight?"

"Yes. I've been carrying it with me all day."

She gulped again and slipped the ring onto her finger. "Yes."

Michael stood and embraced Daria. Feeling herself relax under his gentle touch, she whispered, "You win; you managed to make the day better."

* * *

Lounging on the sofa with one leg thrown up on the back, Jane whistled and said, "That took a while for you to finally come upstairs, steam up the car windows or something?"

Lying on the floor reading a book, Karen looked up and said, "You wanna talk about looking like a deer in the headlights; that must've been something." 

"Yeah, Morgendorffer," Jane said, "I haven't seen you looking this out of it in…hell, I never have seen you like this."

Daria slowly lifted her hand, turning it to show the ring. Spotting it first, Karen spun up and off the floor, dashing over. "Holy crap!"

Jane crawled over the sofa back and joined Karen. "Damn, Daria. He really did it."

Karen finished the thought. "She did, too."

Jane grabbed Daria's hand. "Wow, the boy knows your taste. That's gorgeous." 

Karen said, "Jane, I think we need to give her some room to breathe."

"Oh, yeah. Damn, I can't wait to tell Trent."

Daria placed a hand on Jane's shoulder. "Don't say anything yet. I want to tell Mom and Dad in person." 

"That's sweet," Karen said.

Daria gave them a wry grin. "The looks on their faces should be priceless."

* * *

Walking up the stairs, Michael swung his backpack around and looked in the pocket, where the photo remained, untouched. "I guess I'll have to save you for another day."

Seated at the table, Lewis barely looked up from behind a stack of bound research journals when Michael entered. He asked, "Hey. Did the day's mission go according to plan?"

"To paraphrase Von Moltke, 'No plan survives contact with reality.'"

"Crash and burn, huh?" 

"To further paraphrase from him, 'Life is a matter of expedients.' Daria agreed to marry me."

"Oh, okay." Lewis' head shot up. "Whoa, wait…what was that?"

"It didn't go anywhere near how I planned, but I asked Daria to marry me, and she said, 'yes.'"

"Dude! That's cool! I'm not going to need to find a new roommate right away, am I?"

"Don't worry. Daria and I agreed that tackling the basic concept was enough for one night and negotiation of any further details can wait for another time."

"Whew. Anyway, congrats and all that good stuff."

"Thanks. I hope you don't mind, but I've had a kind of long day, so I'm heading for bed."

"Yeah, sounds like it. Later."

Michael walked back to his room and stopped in front of the door with his hand resting on the knob and head bowed. _I know I haven't been praying much lately or gone to church. I guess I'm still trying to figure out what I believe, but if you did help me tonight, thank you._

* * *

To my wife, Louise, thank you for twenty wonderful years.

Thanks to Louise Lobinske, Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

March-April 2007


	7. Emerald Season

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2007.

This is the fifty-fifth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Emerald Season**

_Merry Freaking Christmas_, Quinn thought as she inched her way along the crowded aisle of the airliner while scanning the seat numbers for hers. She glanced down at her carryon suitcase. _Thirty freaking dollars worth of gift wrapping ruined. Did those security guys have to open everything?_ A malodorous man in an ill-fitting suit before her finished shoving his luggage into the overhead bin and squeezed past a young woman to sit heavily in the window seat. Quinn gave the woman a glance of sympathy as she stepped past and found her seat. The aisle seat was still empty, so she was able to easily duck in and take her place at the window, sliding the suitcase underneath. 

She spent the next ten minutes watching the many different people on board, longing to ask some where they found such cute clothes and hoping that others would have a sudden attack of good taste. A young man with blond hair stopped and put a small suitcase into the overhead. A pair of wraparound sunglasses was perched on top of his head and he wore a buff-colored t-shirt that said, "American Entomology" above an image of a US flag formed from patterns of colored insects. Next, he nodded to Quinn and sat down next to her before removing a paperback book from his laptop case, which he then placed under the seat.

Quinn observed as he started reading the book, a recent spy thriller. _Cute, with a nice tan. I like his hair, cool sunglasses, but that shirt is so weird_. Seeing that he was absorbed in the book, she pulled the in-flight catalog from the seat pocket and started to browse while waiting.

* * *

After takeoff and tiring of the catalog, Quinn turned to the young man. "Oh, a spy story. Is it any good?"

He straightened and faced her, placing a worn marker in the book and letting it rest on the open tray table. "Not too bad, though it's a bit formulaic in places. The author's written better stuff, but also a lot worse." 

"I see." Thinking of Daria's stories, Quinn asked, "Do you read the magazine, _Literature in Action_?" 

"That hack rag?" He shook his head. "They stumble on a few good stories now and then, but most of what they publish is crap."

She quietly acknowledged, "Oh." 

"You're not a regular reader, are you?"

"No, not really, but they published some of my sister's stories. Daria Morgendorffer, have you heard of her?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't ring a bell, sorry."

"No problem, I was just curious."

The pilot announced, "We have reached our cruising altitude. You may now use your portable electronic devices and are free to move around the cabin." 

"Ah, good," the man said and reached under the seat. He took his computer from its case and set it on the tray table. "Excuse me, I'm hoping to get a little work done before we reach Salt Lake City."

Curious about the man's apparent immunity to her charm, Quinn spent a couple of seconds watching him start the computer before looking out of the window at the scenery far below. Moving on to another mystery, Quinn thought about the last couple of phone conversations she had with her sister. Daria seemed almost…excited…about something and was most insistent about arranging to pick Quinn up from the airport. Curiosity about what could have her in such a state made Quinn wish that the flight back east was almost over instead of barely beginning.

Quinn's attention was caught by a colorful orange and black pattern on her neighbor's computer monitor. "That's pretty. Is it some kind of tribal pattern?"

"Um, no. That's the markings on _Acrocinus longimanus_, the Harlequin Beetle."

"That's on a bug?" she said in surprise.

"Yep."

"So, why are you looking at it?"

'"It's what I study." He pointed to his shirt, where the smaller print read "Entomological Society of America Annual Meeting, San Diego. December, 2001," and said, "I started my master's this past semester."

He changed images on the monitor. "That's _Aristobia approximator_, another longhorn beetle. I'm on a project looking at the evolution of markings on that family of beetles."

As he flipped through more colorful images, Quinn was surprised that instead of repulsion, she was fascinated with the patterns. She said, "Some of these would look great on swim suits. Give them a wild and natural look."

The man chuckled. "That would be a great way to turn on all the young entomologists in the area. Could've sold a bunch at the meeting last week. I had a blast." 

She said, "Did you spend some time sightseeing after the meeting?"

"No need; I'm local. I go to UC-Lakeside."

"I'm on the other side of LA in Malibu and go to Pepperhill. By the way, my name's Quinn." 

Giggling, he said, "You're kidding."

Offended, she said, "No, I'm not kidding; my name's Quinn. What's so funny?"

He managed to stop laughing. "Hi, I'm Quinn Gilstad."

She looked directly into his blue eyes. "Your name is Quinn?

"Yes."

"That is funny." 

"This should provide a nice story once I get to my grandparents'."

"You live with them?"

"Nah, just spending Christmas with them in Florida. My mom will meet me there, and after the holiday, it's back across the country to Redding, up at the north end of the Central Valley."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" she asked.

"I'm an only child."

"What about your dad? Will he be there?"

"I haven't seen him since I was 12. My parents had the classic nasty divorce, yelling, screaming, throwing things, police visits, restraining orders, the whole works. Their lawyers made a killing before it was over. After that, he hit the road and good riddance."

"I'm sorry."

"Old news. So, are you on your way home?"

"Kind of, my parents live in Lawndale, Maryland."

"You mentioned a sister. Any others in your family?"

"Just her. I don't think Mom and Dad would've survived three kids."

He laughed. "I need to tell that to Mom. Is your sister still at home?"

"No, she goes to school in Boston, but plans to pick me up at the Baltimore-Washington International on her way to Mom and Dad's."

"Isn't it a pretty long drive from Boston to Maryland?"

"Six or seven hours." 

"Boy, she must really like you."

"We've gotten better, but I also think she's up to something and wants to talk to me before she faces our parents."

"Hope it isn't bad news."

She shook her head. "No, Daria's excited, which is really strange for her."

* * *

Michael knocked on his supervisor's door and said, "Mr. Morrison?" 

The older gentleman looked up from his desk. "Yes, Mr. Fulton?"

Michael held up a filled-out form. "I'm applying for the archeology site assistant position that was posted yesterday."

"Please put it in the box. You're a history major, right?"

Michael laid the form on top of the desk inbox. "Yes, and I'm planning on studying archeology in grad school."

"Then this should be right up your alley, though I must warn you, with Professor Daniels getting the grant to handle archeological oversight of the trail repair project, you're likely to have some tough competition."

"I know, but I can't pass up the chance."

"I like the idea of someone already acquainted with the trail being the on-site assistant, but you can bet that some of Prof. Daniels' students at Bromwell will apply. Since supervision will be split, he and I will have to agree on whoever is hired."

Michael stepped back to the door and said, "I added everything I could think of that would be relevant, and asked my fiancée to proofread it, so at least it won't have any embarrassing typos."

"Good idea."

"I'm already off the clock and need to go. I hope you have a Merry Christmas."

"You too, Mr. Fulton."

Michael hurried away through the staff area to the rear entrance of the building, waving to a couple of his coworkers on the way out. Daria was waiting in the parking lot as he emerged, pulling his jacket closed against the cold wind. He jogged to the car and ducked in as quickly as possible. "My mother always said it wasn't safe to accept rides from strangers." 

Daria leaned over and placed her hand over the back of his neck, drawing him into a kiss before asking, "Was that strange enough for you?"

"I'm not sure. We better try that again."

"Nice try," Daria said, giving him a quick kiss. "But we need to get going. You know the traffic between here and Logan is going to suck."

* * *

Seated on a snack bar stool at Logan International Airport, Michael glumly looked at the security checkpoint. "No respect for tradition. I'm asking you, what is this world coming to?"

At the next stool, Daria looked past the screeners in an attempt to glimpse the small eatery where they had said their Christmas goodbyes the two previous years. "I guess both of us will have to fly next year." 

"That could work." He rotated the seat and reached out to gently lift Daria's necklace. Parts of the chain and the edges of the mount were dull where the gold plating had worn away, but the polished malachite stone still shone like new. He said, "It means a lot that you still wear it."

"In many ways, it means as much to me as the ring," she said, stroking his cheek with her left hand as light glinted from the emerald setting. "My life changed the moment I opened the package. I didn't realize it at the time, but Jane said something when she picked me up at the airport. 'Happiness looks good on you.' In many ways, you're not the kind of man I expected, but that happiness tells me that you're the one I was lucky to find."

"Leave me speechless, why don't you?"

She placed a package wrapped with blue paper and a white ribbon in his hands. "Since you're not talking, you can open this."

Very curious about the size and shape, he peeled the tape loose and slipped a familiar style ring box from the paper. Daria said with a sly smile, "If you're going to mark your territory, so am I."

When he opened it, Michael found a gold man's ring set with a single square-cut emerald. With a silent nod, he put the ring on, forcing to get it past the knuckle. He whispered, "Thank you."

Enjoying having him off-guard, Daria said, "I figured that would be more dignified than spraying your leg."

That broke his surprise. He teased back while tugging on the ring, "And it's appreciated. Though I think I should have this resized, it's a little tight."

"You must have fat fingers."

"Then I'll go on a diet." Michael removed a thin, envelope-like package from his suitcase and gave it to Daria. "Your turn." 

"I'm almost afraid to open it," Daria said. "A proposal's a hard act to follow."

"I didn't try, and I certainly can't top what you just gave me. It's a little different and I hope it works."

Inside the red and green paper, Daria found an envelope containing four certificates. Each was for a one-hour horse ride for two at a stable west of Boston. 

Michael explained, "I got the idea when I gave you that picture I took down in Georgia when we were riding with Karen and Derek."

She leaned over and kissed him. "That's one of the reasons I love you. You manage to make things special. Thanks."

He stood and softly embraced her. "You're welcome."

Daria did the same. They stayed together and basked in the closeness. After a minute, they parted, but continued to hold hands.

"Good luck with asking your parents," Michael said.

"Thanks. Are you still comfortable with the idea?"

"After your explanation, it makes perfect sense. I can't see why your parents would say, 'no.'" 

"I hope you're right." Daria looked at her watch and said, "You should probably get in line for security; it looks long."

He sighed. "I'm starting to hate this saying goodbye routine."

"I'm not too fond of it myself."

"I'm looking forward to when we won't go our separate ways for the holidays."

"Me too." 

"We're sounding almost hopeful."

"It's your fault. I'm the misery chick."

"I'll be miserable without you." They hugged once again and Michael said, "Please have a safe drive."

"And you have a safe flight."

They had a last, lingering kiss before whispering, "Goodbye," together, parting and backing away. As the crowd filled the space between them, they turned and walked in opposite directions - desperately wishing that they weren't.

* * *

In the passenger lounge at Salt Lake City Airport, Quinn watched her new acquaintance disappear onto the boarding ramp to his connecting flight. Feeling very odd, she went to the window and found a new seat that allowed her a clear view of the plane. She waited patiently and when it pulled away, she stood and leaned against the window to watch the departing aircraft. Several windows behind the wing, she caught sight of him and waved. He looked pleasantly surprised and waved back as the aircraft rolled away. After it was lost from sight, she slowly started the walk to her boarding gate and the couple hour wait. Without thinking, she reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek.

* * *

"Hey Goofball, over here!" Gina called out to her brother.

Michael weaved through the crowd toward the dark brunette. Once in range of a normal voice, he said, "Just as ladylike as ever, I see." 

"Lighten up," she said, giving him a quick, sisterly hug.

"I'll think about it," he said in return. "How are you?"

As they started walking toward the baggage claim area, Gina said, "I'm great. Damn, it's nice to be a senior."

"Ah, I remember those heady days."

Teasing, she said, "I thought you were trying to forget them."

"And you still can't pick up on sarcasm," he said, giving her a light push with his left hand.

She grabbed it and looked at the ring. "Jewelry? When did you start wearing jewelry?"

"Christmas present from Daria."

Gina punched her brother's arm. "You're the one who's supposed to give her a ring, Goofball." 

"I did."

Gina stopped and slowly turned. "Whoa. Did you say what I think you just said and does it mean what I think it means?"

"Yes and yes." 

"Yes!" she shouted, causing those nearby to look at them.

He laughed and said, "I'm glad you approve." 

"Of course I approve. You finally showed that you're not as dumb as you look. Now come on, I want the whole story." 

"The whole story…are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"I suppose it started when Daria was born on November…"

She pushed his arm. "Not that far back."

"You said you wanted the whole story." 

"Okay, start with how you decided to ask Daria…this time."

"Ahhh, I see."

* * *

When Gina stopped the car in front of the Fulton house, Michael sternly said, "Don't go running into the house blurting the news to Mom and Dad. Let me tell them."

"I'm not that dense," Gina replied. "But give me a minute to grab my camera. I promise that I'll be discreet and not tip them off."

"Thanks." 

"You owe me."

"Someday, the tables will be turned."

"You wish."

Michael stepped out and went to the back while Gina opened the truck using the underseat control. "See you inside."

"Give me a minute."

After Gina trotted to the door, Michael lifted his suitcase from the trunk and placed it on the ground beside his carryon. He closed the trunk and paused, looking at his ring. "I hope your drive to BWI is going okay, Daria. I'll make sure my mom doesn't call yours and spoil the surprise."

He lifted both pieces of luggage and said, "Okay Michael, here goes nothing."

His parents were waiting at the door to grab him into a hug. Samantha said, "Welcome home," while Ron said, "Good to see you, son."

"Mom, Dad, great to see you." When he stepped back, he caught sight of Gina sneaking down the stairs with her camera. He waited for her to get closer and said, "I have something I need to tell you." 

"Michael, what is it?" Samantha worriedly said. 

He saw Gina stop with her camera at the ready, took a deep breath and said, "Daria and I are engaged."

--FLASH--

* * *

After the long drive, Daria opted to stand rather than sit on one of the barstools next to her table. She leaned against it and nursed her coffee while watching the arrival concourse for Quinn. Finally, she saw her sister's short, bright red and immensely cute hair through the crowd. Daria started to stretch her back but thought better of it. She drained the remaining, lukewarm liquid and fought her way through the crowd, finally calling, "Quinn, over here."

"Daria!" Quinn said, waving and changing direction. "I'm so glad to see you, the flight was murder."

Keeping her left hand out of sight, Daria reached Quinn. "My drive wasn't much better, between the snow and the freezing rain. At least you got to relax." 

"Relax? Yeah, right, while the plane was jumping up and down like a roller coaster. And eww, that little bag wasn't big enough for the guy sitting next to me."

"Okay, we both had sucky trips," Daria said. She motioned with her head and started walking, keeping to Quinn's left. "Let's pick up your bags and get out of here. We'll have to walk; they're not allowing curbside parking."

"That's what skycaps are for. The trip wasn't all bad: my first flight was nice and the layover was fun."

"I never imagined you associating Salt Lake City with fun."

"It was the company." 

Daria chuckled and rolled her eyes. "You've spread your corruption over the nice young men of that city. Is there no limit to your evil?"

"No. I met a nice guy on the flight and we stopped at the coffee shop to talk."

"You, in a coffee shop?"

"I had a decaf skim-milk cappuccino with Splenda. I'm not letting myself go, if that's what you're worried about."

"It was either that or the alien implants are working. Hold on, you said guy. Singular. You spent your entire layover talking to only one male of the species?" 

"Ha-ha, Daria. Talking to Quinn was so much fun that we hardly noticed the time go by."

"Since when you have you started referring to yourself in the third person?" 

"His name was Quinn, silly."

"I can see where this could get confusing. But still, you spent several hours talking to only one guy? Even you have to admit that is unusual."

Quinn shrugged. "Hey, isn't college about new experiences?"

"Point taken, Quinn."

"So, what's on your mind that you insisted on making the long trip instead of just letting me take a cab to Mom and Dad's? Don't try any of your tricks, just tell me."

"It can wait until we're out of the crowd."

"Okay, but this had better be good."

* * *

Quinn gave the skycap a tip, smiled sweetly and said, "Oh, thank you." 

He said, "My pleasure, I hope you fly again soon." 

"I'll be back in a week."

"I'll look for you."

Closing her trunk, Daria said, "I see you still have the magic touch. Now let's get out of this damn cold." 

"Okay, Daria, and then you better start talking," Quinn said, opening the passenger door of Daria's car and sitting down.

Daria took her seat behind the wheel and closed the door. "How about if I show you?"

Puzzled, Quinn said, "Show? What could you…" Seeing the ring as Daria slowly lifted her hand, she exclaimed, "Oh my God! Is that really…did he…did you…?"

Daria nodded with each question. "Yes, yes and yes."

Quinn dove across the seat to hug Daria. "Wow, that's great! Do you have a date yet?" 

Looking down at her sister, Daria said, "Not exactly…" 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Quinn said as she sat back upright.

Daria started her car. "There's still an important detail I want to run past Mom and Dad."

Quinn started to carefully ask, "Um, you're not…"

"No, I'm not pregnant."

* * *

Standing with the aid of a walker, Helen said to her hovering husband, "I'm fine, Jake. Quinn called to say that they'll be here soon and after going to California and back last month, I'll be damned if I'm going to greet our girls sitting down."

"Yes, dear," Jake said. He peered out of the small arched window near the door at the lighted driveway and was soon able to say, "They're here." 

Jake opened the front door and waved. "Daria! Quinn! Glad you're back!"

Quinn looked up at the window of her old room. "It feels good to be back, Daddy."

Daria said, "Hi Dad. How's Mom?"

"She's waiting inside." He beckoned with the sweep of one arm. "Come in, I can get your bags later."

Quinn looked at Daria, who looked back and then they both shrugged. Daria said, "I can be talked into letting Dad do the grunt work tonight."

"Me, too," Quinn replied.

Daria was pleased to see her mother looking stronger and happier. Though still a little uneven, the smile on Helen's face was broad and sincere as she said, "Welcome home," while Daria and Quinn were removing their winter coats. 

"Mom," Daria said before carefully embracing her mother. "You're looking good."

"So are you, sweetie."

"Yeah, Daria," Quinn said. "Now that you have the jacket off, I can see that you've lost weight. You do look good."

Ignoring her slight irritation, Daria said, "Appearance isn't the reason I lost weight, but, um, thanks."

Jake said, "You look great, kiddo. How's the old cholesterol thing going?"

"I had a follow-up test last week. I'm getting there, but still need to keep working on it."

"Keep it up," he encouraged, hugging her while Quinn greeted Helen.

"I've had a really long day; can we adjourn all of this to the sofa, where I can sit down in comfort and take my boots off?" Daria said, already going in that direction.

"That sounds great," Quinn said. She winked to Daria and said, "Give me a moment." 

Helen watched her daughters with mild suspicion, knowing that they were planning something. Thinking that she would just have to wait for things to play out, Helen followed Daria to the middle sofa, where her daughter patted the seat, inviting her to sit.

Jake sat on the next section and Quinn walked around with her camera. "Okay everybody, I want a picture. Smile."

_Thanks, Quinn_, Daria thought as she faintly smiled.

"Great," Quinn said after snapping the picture. She sat down on the remaining sofa with the camera in her lap.

Jake said, "Don't you want a picture with you in it?"

"In a minute, Daddy."

Helen's eyes darted between daughters as she resisted the temptation to ask what they were up to. With Daria sitting beside her and Quinn nonchalantly holding the camera on the other sofa, Helen deduced that Daria was behind it all. She inquired, "What's new with you, Daria?"

"Since you asked," Daria said, raising her left hand. "Michael and I are engaged."

Quinn swiftly raised the camera and captured Jake and Helen's look of surprise and glee, along with Daria's satisfied smirk.

Starting to cry, Helen hugged Daria tight. "Sweetie."

"That's great, Kiddo! Who's the lucky guy?" Jake said.

Everyone turned to face him as Jake's face broke into a silly grin. Helen sighed and said, "Your father has rediscovered his sense of humor." Helen looked at the ring and said, "That's beautiful and I'm very happy for you." 

"Thanks, Mom."

Helen turned a little more to face Daria. "You're not rushing into this, are you?" 

"I'm not pregnant."

Helen shook her head. "That's not what I meant."

"Oh."

"I know my stroke has affected you in a lot of ways."

Nodding, Daria said, "It has."

"I'm recovering very well and should be able to return to work after the holiday." 

Quinn asked, "What's that have to do with Daria and Michael getting married?"

Helen said, "I'm hoping that they're not rushing because they're afraid something else might happen. You can't live your life that way."

Daria said, "Actually Mom, we're thinking about waiting until after graduation, so you have a year and a half to prepare."

Helen visibly relaxed and then suddenly said, "Oh my, a year and a half? We have to start planning!"

Excited, Quinn said, "Tell me about it. I got so many good ideas from helping Lindy, and wow, the stuff that Amy did at her wedding…"

"Mom, you and Dad prepared for your wedding in less time," Daria said. 

"You're my daughter and that changes everything." 

Quinn said, "Daria, you're going to be surprised at all the things you'll have to worry about. Mom, what do you think about using the reception hall at _Le Grande_?

Jake reached over to place a hand on Daria's shoulder. "I have the newspaper over on the table."

She looked at Helen and Quinn already deep in conversation. "Dibs on the Arts section." 

As both stood up, Jake said, "It's already by your chair."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Any time, Kiddo."

Walking through the kitchen, Daria asked, "What do you think?"

"I'm happier than you can imagine," Jake said. He sat at the table and politely handed the Arts section to Daria before withdrawing his hand to rub tears from his eyes. 

"Dad?"

"Sorry Daria, it's…oh, you don't want to hear it."

"Yes, I do."

"It's only a little piece of my heart breaking."

* * *

Sitting in the kitchen, Michael enthusiastically asked over the phone, "How did it go?"

Lying on the bed in her old room, Daria said, "Everyone's happy for us. Mom and Quinn are already putting together creative concepts for the ceremony."

"I suppose that if they're busy, they won't be underfoot. What about your dad?"

"He gave me a glimpse of how much he really cares about me and he's probably happier than anyone else." 

"I like your dad. He probably has one of his silly grins on right now."

"Or something like that. How did your family take it?"

"They're cool, and my mom's been itching to get on the phone with yours to start the plotting." 

"Mom and Quinn are on Quinn's laptop looking at bridal websites. I hope they remember that we have final say on the matter." 

"I'm sure you can bring them around. So, what did your parents say about the date?"

She stammered, "Um…I haven't asked yet."

"What happened?" 

"Everything, uh, happened so fast that I didn't have a chance. Don't worry, I'll ask tomorrow."

"If your family acted anything like mine, I can believe it. By the way, the word's already on its way out. Inside of five minutes after we got home, Gina was on the phone to Natalie with the news."

"As soon as Quinn has a chance, I'm sure she'll tell all of her friends around here. We can't hide anything now."

"Dammit, I guess we're stuck."

Smiling warmly, Daria said, "Yeah, I guess we are."

* * *

In the converted first floor dining room, Helen sat on her bed after therapy exercises and spoke on her cell phone, "Samantha, I'm sure you've heard the good news."

Seated in the kitchen, she said, "Yes, Michael could hardly wait until he was through the door. Oh, and Helen, he said that you're making a fantastic recovery."

Feeling her sore muscles, Helen said, "That's what everyone is saying, but from my point of view, this is taking forever. I'll be glad to return to work next month."

"Next month? That is impressive, Helen."

"Thank you. How are you doing, Samantha?"

"Oh, I lose a few pounds, I gain a few back. But so far this year, I'm at a net loss. Let's hope I can keep it up over the holidays."  
Daria stopped by the door. "Mom, I'm going over to Trent and Lindy's. Jane finally made it in; she and Mack stayed at his folks' last night." 

"Excuse me a moment," Helen said to the phone. To Daria, she asked, "There's a package for Trent and Lindy under the tree. Can you drop it off for your father and me, please?" 

"No problem, Mom. I'll be back sometime this afternoon." 

"Have fun," Helen said and waved. Back to the phone, she said, "That was Daria going to see Jane's family. They've really been a help to Jake and me these past couple of months."

Walking through the kitchen, Daria looked back over her shoulder. _I'm probably going to regret leaving them unsupervised._

* * *

Trent opened the door and saw her outside. "Hey Daria. Congratulations." 

"Thanks, Trent. Did Jane tell you first, or did Quinn call Lindy?"

Trent chuckled. "Quinn called Lindy last night."

Stepping inside, Daria said, "Any great advice?"

"Make sure you have someone wake you up on time."

Daria gently laughed. "I don't think that'll be a problem."

Closing the door, Trent said, "Yeah, Lindy was kinda excited when she woke me up for ours." 

Jogging down the stairs, Jane said, "Hey, there." 

Daria asked, "How's Mack?"

Jane grinned. "Excellent, always excellent."

"I meant his general well-being."

"Oh, that's good, too." 

"Guess it's a little too late to play big brother," Trent said.

Jane playfully kicked his rear. "You know better than that."

"Big Brother is sleeping," Daria said. "Not exactly what Orwell had in mind."

"I can use that," Jane said.

Lindy walked in from the kitchen. "Jane, you know that only I'm allowed to abuse Trent like that. Hi, Daria, I'm really happy for you."

"I have a good idea of what you felt like."

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

Daria nodded, faintly embarrassed. 

"Jeez, Daria," Jane said. "Don't tell me you're turning into one of those girls that can only talk about her wedding."

"No, but I've already learned that questions are unavoidable, so I preemptively give some basic information. However, I'm not interested in dwelling on it; that's why I agreed to follow you today. When I left, Mom was on the phone with Mrs. Fulton and Quinn was on her way to Books by the Ton to buy the wedding planning section."

Lindy said, "Don't worry, Daria, it only gets worse."

"I think I'm going to regret this long engagement."

Jane said, "You could always elope."

Daria briefly smiled, and then was thoughtful for a moment before quietly saying, "I couldn't do that to Dad."

"Your dad's really a nice guy," Lindy said. "He might be goofy and clumsy, but he's really been there for your mom or made sure that Marianne, Trent or I filled in. And if you get him started on you or Quinn, he'll talk your ear off." 

"I'm sure." Daria then admitted, "It's taken me a long time, but I've learned a lot from Mom and Dad about…stuff like that." Daria handed her parents' gift to Lindy. "This is from Mom and Dad. And I also want to say thanks for helping them." 

Lindy said, "Aw, they didn't have to do anything." 

Jane looked at her watch and then tugged on Daria's sleeve. "You're getting mushy around the edges, Morgendorffer. Come on, I don't want to be late."

"That's the first time I think I've ever heard that about going to Lawndale High. Mushy, huh? Do you want me to describe how you and Karen acted when I told you?" 

"Come on Daria, we really have to go. Bye, Trent. Bye, Lindy."

* * *

Daria stared at the familiar brick buildings. "Lawndale High. I can't believe that I've willingly returned."

"Don't give me that 'willingly' crap, Daria. You're here because it's the best excuse you could find to run away from your family."

"We could've found better things to do, like investigate what's really behind the dumpster at Good Time Chinese."

"Remember, Daria, we're visitors, not inmates. Oh, and I survived a year and a half more of this place than you did."

"Got me. Okay, lead on McLane."

Inside the school, Daria observed, "This place is eerie when the students are gone." 

"Trust me, Daria, the quiet is golden to the teachers." 

"I can believe it after my experiences this last fall with the mentor teachers."

Claire DeFoe was in the front office when they arrived. Somehow, she managed to exude the same feeling of creativity and freedom as before while wearing a business style dress. "Jane, Daria, please come in."

"Hi, Ms. DeFoe," Daria said.

"Please call me Claire; you're no longer a student."

"How bad is the crop this year?" Jane asked while following Claire to her office. 

"About the usual: a few good, a few bad, and the rest trying to make it through as best they can."

"That's what I'm starting to learn," Daria said. "I had three hours a week as an intern this semester and in the spring; I get monitored responsibility for a class five hours a week."

"That's right; I remember that you were also majoring in Education. How do you like it so far? I know Jane still loves working with the children at the hospital."

Daria took a seat and said, "There are times I want to bash my head against the wall more than I did when I was a student here. But other times, I can even understand why Mr. DeMartino keeps going."

"Don't let her fool you Claire. She's getting hooked on teaching," Jane said.

Claire rolled her chair around the desk so that it faced the other two in the room without obstruction. Sitting, she said, "You either get hooked or burn out in a year or two."

"Speaking of burnout, I hear you got rid of the bomb-sniffing dogs," Daria said.

Claire replied, "It was so hard finding good homes for them."

Jane asked, "You didn't end up with any of them, did you?"

"No. A teacher from Oakwood has one of them and Anthony took the other."

"Somehow, that seems fitting," Daria said as she took a seat.

Laughing, Claire said, "There's a young man in the sophomore class that reminds me of you. His name is Link. He takes particular delight in teasing Timothy Barch."

Jane said, "Huh? Oh, that's right. He changed his name after they were married. Still a scary thought that they have a kid."

"It's mellowed Janet out, so I'm not complaining on that end. But I swear that Timothy has gotten worse."

"I didn't think that was possible," Daria said. "This Link, does he have dark hair and glasses?" 

"Yes, but he has contacts now. Do you know him?" 

"We're both survivors of OK to Cry Corral summer camp. I was volunteered to be a counselor the year before I graduated." 

"So that's how Link knew Timothy."

Daria asked, "How is Link doing? We exchanged e-mails for a while, but we lost contact with each other."

"I understand that he and his mother spent several months living in a shelter after she left his father during the beginning of his freshman year." 

"That would be his stepfather, actually," Daria corrected. "Living in a shelter would explain why e-mails started bouncing."

"I'll have to mention that I saw you. He seems to have recovered though and he's getting good grades." 

"Can I borrow some paper? I'll write down my e-mail address for him."

"Sure." Clair took a pack of sticky-notes from her desk and handed them to Daria. "That's a lovely ring."

Jane said, "Somebody's engaged." 

Claire cooed, "Oh, congratulations."

Daria glared at Jane. "I was hoping to have one conversation this week without that being the topic."

* * *

Finally home after being hauled around Lawndale all day by Jane, taking in such things as lunch at Pizza Prince, last-minute gift shopping on Dega Street and a stop to make faces at the trendy coffee chain where the old coffee house had been, Daria stopped in the kitchen. Jake was finishing a dinner that smelled rather appealing and Helen was already seated at the table. Daria said, 'Hey, I'm back." 

"How's good ol' Jane doing these days?" Jake asked. 

"Up to her usual tricks." Thinking this might be a good time to bring up what she wanted to ask, Daria said, "Mom, Dad, do you have a minute?"

"Of course, Daria, have a seat. After you left this morning, Samantha and I had a wonderful conversation. Now that you're here, I'd like to talk to you about some of the ideas we worked out."

Jake said, "Dinner won't be ready for another half an hour, and besides, Quinn is upstairs. You and Helen have plenty of time, Daria."

Daria stopped at the refrigerator for a glass of water before reluctantly sitting at the table. "Okay Mom, what do you have?"

Helen opened a notebook. "Daria, I know you don't want anything over the top."

Relaxing, Daria said, 'Thank you." 

Pointing to a printed webpage, Helen said, "You'd look good in something like Amy's wedding dress, but in your own style. I think this would fit the bill, and it's only $3,500."

Daria choked on her water and clamped her hand over her nose and mouth to keep any from escaping. When she was able to breathe, she said, "$3,500?"

Hearing her sister, Quinn rushed down the stairs with a paper bag full of books and magazines. "Daria! Look at all of the bridal stuff I found for us to look at!"

* * *

Sitting in his room and talking on the phone, Michael said in agreement, "We've created monsters."

Also in her room, Daria said, "It was bad enough that Quinn found someplace that actually makes glass slippers, but what I really couldn't believe was that she brought out a _Veronica's Secret Bridal Catalog_ and that Mom not only didn't bat an eye, but had some suggestions!"

"What did your dad say?"

"That's when he turned red and ran away, telling us how to finish dinner. Which I handled because Mom and Quinn were still talking."

"You win; it's not that bad here. Mom's only bouncing off of the walls and Dad said that if I can survive the engagement, I can survive anything. Meanwhile, Gina and Natalie are talking and giggling. Oh, by the way, Gina wants to know if there's a bridesmaid slot open. I told her that we don't even have a clue yet and she said that she was staking out her claim early."

"This is going to spin completely out of control if we let it, but I don't want to clamp down too hard since I'm going to be asking for a big favor from Mom and Dad." 

"Going to? That sounds like you haven't asked yet." 

"No, I haven't. It's not something that's easy to ask and with everything flying at me, I haven't had a chance."

He joked, "Just try to find time before you head home, okay?" 

"I hope so."

"Do you want me to call and ask for you?"

"Michael Fulton, you're not making things easier."

"Ouch, pulling out the last name. I get the hint."

It was Daria's turn to tease. "I thought you were smarter than the average bear, which must be why I like you."

"Thanks. But let me tell you, living this far from the woods does make things uncomfortable at times." 

"That was too much information. If you don't mind, I want to do some reading before I go to sleep tonight, so I'm going to call it early tonight. I'll do my best to ask tomorrow."

"I should probably get around to wrapping the rest of my presents for tomorrow. Good luck and I love you."

"I love you. Good night."

"Night."

Daria turned her cell phone off and placed it on the nightstand. From beside it, she carefully picked up an old volume marked "1936" and sat back on her bed while gently skimming the yellowed, handwritten pages. "Theresa, I had a feeling that bringing this volume to read was a good idea."

_**May 22,**_

As I write tonight, I can barely keep my eyes off of the ring on my finger. Yes, a ring, Mark asked me to marry him and I said, "Yes." Even though the diamond is small, I don't know how he could afford it. He said not to worry. Silly man, of course I'll worry. Mr. Roosevelt may have promised to make things better, but we haven't seen any changes yet. Neither my family nor his can afford much for a wedding. Since everything will be simple, we saw no reason to wait very long. On July 14, I'll become Mrs. Blaine. 

Daria flipped forward in the diary.

_**July 5,**_

Mom finished my dress today. Aunt Alice even gave her a small piece of white silk for the collar. The whole family's been so helpful and generous. I don't care what I thought as a little girl about some big wedding. This means so much more than anyone could buy with money. The whole congregation at church is excited and I've had so many people offer covered dishes for the reception, I don't think we'll need to buy anything. Mark's mother wants to bake the cake for us. 

"I hope Dad doesn't offer to bake the cake," Daria said with a light chuckle.

_**July 13,**_

I'm so nervous that I've hardly been able to eat all day. I keep having this nightmare of tripping over my gown on the way down the aisle. Dad promised to catch me if that happens. Everything is ready and all I can do is wait and worry about what might go wrong. Oh, listen to me. Nothing is going to go wrong and tomorrow will be perfect. I only have to keep telling myself that.

July 15

Sorry I didn't have time to write yesterday, but Mark and I were just so busy. Our wedding was delightful. I think keeping it simple was the right answer. Reverend Tyler was a bundle of laughs before we started and helped to calm my nerves. Much to my relief, I didn't trip over my dress on the way down the aisle. I don't think I've seen Dad so thrilled in my life, or that Mom would ever stop crying. 

Daria slowly closed the volume and said, "A short engagement isn't in the cards for Michael and me, but you've given me more good reasons to keep things simple. Thanks once again, Theresa."

* * *

The next morning was Christmas. By mid-morning the Morgendorffers were gathered around the coffee table, which was cluttered with opened presents along with empty mugs of coffee and hot chocolate. Meanwhile, paper, ribbons and bows littered the carpet around the sofas. Jake and Helen sat together in the center with their daughters on either side. Daria wetted her lips and looked around. "Now that the paper carnage is over, there are a couple things I'd like to discuss with you."

Jake said, "Go ahead, Daria, what's on your mind?"

"Well, it's my engagement, or more like, the planning for my wedding. Mom, Quinn, I know you're excited for me and have a lot of ideas. Please don't take this wrong, but Michael and I were hoping for something small and simple." 

Helen said, "Are you sure, Daria? It's your big day." 

"Mom, you and Dad had a simple wedding and it was beautiful. We don't want a duplicate, but Michael and I would like something similar."

"Sweetie, we kept it simple because Jake and I didn't have much choice. Is it too much for us to wish for our daughter to have more of a choice than what we had?" 

"Mom, Dad, I appreciate it, but can you understand if we opt for something smaller?" Daria swung her head toward her sister and winked. "I'm sure that once Quinn finds someone, she'll make up the difference with the social event of the season. With my blessing."

"Thanks, Daria," Quinn said.

Daria quickly said, "That doesn't mean I don't want your help; I know I'm going to need a lot. Plus, your help will mean more to us than spending a lot of money on stuff that's really not needed."

Helen slowly nodded. "It's your day, Daria."

Daria shuffled her feet. "There's one more thing and it's very personal."

"What is it?" 

Daria took a deep breath. "Michael and I have a particular date in mind that means a lot to us, but…we want to make sure that it's okay with you and Dad."

Helen said, "I don't care what the date is; we will make time for your wedding." Hurt, she asked, "How could you think otherwise?"

"Mom, whether or not you had other plans wasn't what concerned us." 

"Then what date could you possibly worry about?" 

Hope in her eyes, Daria said, "June 26."

Jake said, "Hey! That sounds familiar."

Helen completely missed her husband's comment as she searched for what to say.

"Wait a minute, that's our anniversary," Jake said. "That will be real easy to remember!"

Helen carefully said, "I'm not saying no, but I'm wondering why. Wouldn't you prefer a day of your own?"

One small, uncharacteristic tear in her eye, Daria said, "It's a thank-you. If I hadn't heard from you and Dad how you first got together, I never would've started dating Michael. I haven't told you this before, but it was on my way home from your silver anniversary that I finally accepted that I loved him."

Helen reached for Jake's hand and swallowed back her emotions while looking into his eyes. When he nodded, she turned back to Daria. "We're honored. Thank you."

* * *

New Year's Eve and finally home, Daria sat cross-legged on the couch with Bump comfortably purring on her lap. She said, "I know you were not neglected, that's why I picked that boarding cattery. You didn't even miss fish day."

Bump half rolled to look up while rubbing the side of her face against Daria.

"Oh, all right, I missed you, too."

After a knock, Michael unlocked the front door and cracked it open. "It's me. Sorry it took so long; traffic was miserable."

"Pardon me if I don't get up. I'm on the sofa doing penance."

He closed and locked the door. "I can hear Bump from here. You must be doing a good job."

"At least adequate." 

Michael stopped behind the sofa and put his arms around Daria while kissing the side of her neck. "I missed you."

She closed her eyes as he continued. "Hmm. I think someone else was just telling me that."

"Should I be jealous?" 

"No," Daria murmured. "She can't do anything like that."

"Good." After a moment, he gazed down at the feline. "Has she made any suggestions about what we should do for our wedding?"

"She's deemed you acceptable and granted permission. We should expect nothing more." 

Michael nodded to the cat. "Thank you." To Daria, he said, "Oh, my parents thought the date was sweet, but made one request in return."

"What's that?"

"To have our first child on their anniversary."

Daria groaned. "Did you explain to them that is an option to be decided far, far in the future?"

"Yes, but they said that they can be patient."

Daria tilted her head back and looked at the ceiling. "You realize that we're going to have to put up with this kind of crap until the wedding, don't you? Grandma Tess is pulling in all her old contacts from Erin's wedding. Something that's scarier is that Grandma Ruth is cooperating with her. But even more frightening was Amy's evil laugh."

"Maybe Nietzsche had engagements in mind when he said, 'That which does not destroy us, makes us strong.'"

Daria rolled her head to the side to nibble on his neck. "Sweet talker."

* * *

At the top of the stairs, Helen took a moment to rest before going to the large, arched window that dominated the front of the house. Beside her, Jake followed and said, "Honey?"

"I'm fine, Jake. No, I'm great," Helen said as she looked out at the snow-covered yard. "I'm beating the effects of my stroke and you're doing great on your cholesterol. Daria's engaged and happier than she's ever been in her life, while Quinn is growing as a bright young woman. There's one more thing I'd like to accomplish before the end of the year tonight."

"What's that?"

"I want to move back into our bedroom."

"Really?" 

Firm, Helen said, "Yes. That's our room and nothing is going to keep us from it."

"I can call Trent and see if his friends can come over to help."

Helen very softly drew her fingertips along his arm. "I have a great idea on how to celebrate midnight."

Jake broke into a huge grin. "You're on! I'll make a big pot of chili to convince them!"

Helen smiled and leaned against his chest. "I better call Lindy and warn her."

* * *

Prone on her bed, Fran looked up at Quinn standing just inside the door of her room. "Engaged, huh? So that's the reason your sister wanted to pick you up at the airport."

"Yeah."

"So, have you been tapped for bridesmaid duty again?"

"Daria hasn't decided on anything like that yet. I think she's still enjoying the glow and not worrying yet."

"Tell her I'm jealous."

"I'll pass it on." Quinn slipped one of Fran's books from the shelf. "Do you mind? I feel like reading something a little different."

"That's one of my cheesy romances."

"Yeah, I know." 

"Ah-ha. Your sister got to you."

Quinn faintly smiled and thought of the blond-haired man on the plane. "That's part of it."

* * *

Thanks to Louise Lobinske, Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

April 2007


	8. Between the Lines

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2007.

This is the fifty-sixth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Between the Lines**

Brushing some errant snow from her blue "Revolution" scarf, a souvenir from an old double date with Jane, Daria halted at the door to her boss's office. "I'm sorry, Dr. Findlay, but between my student teaching and my class schedule, I can only work about sixteen hours per week this semester."

The older professor looked up from the letter that he was scanning. "You're only a junior; isn't this a little early for student teaching in the Education program?"

"Um, by the number of credit hours earned I'm a senior. While it seems a little early, I'm actually doing my student teaching on schedule in relation to the prerequisites." 

He nodded and said, "I have to admit that you're an ambitious young woman. Okay, Ms. Morgendorffer, sixteen hours per week."

"Thank you."

"Hopefully, you can arrange your summer schedule for twenty-four to make up the difference."

Daria withheld a sigh. "I'll see what I can do."

Almost cheerful, he said, "Very well. Oh, you have an assignment waiting on your desk."

Daria nodded and went to her cubicle. At the next station, Shelly turned her chair and said, "Welcome back, Daria. How was Christmas?" 

"Good. Michael and I told our families and now everyone is obsessing and making plans for us even though the wedding is eighteen months away. What happened around here? Dr. Findlay almost seemed…cheerful."

"He's been holed up in his office during the intersession, working on something. He's hardly said a word, but I've seen him smile a couple times. It's…freaky." 

"If you tell me he bought everyone a goose, I'm going to worry."

Shelly rolled her chair close and whispered, "I wish. Come on, we both know Dr. Findlay thinks that Scrooge wimped out. He's up to something and if it makes him grin like that, we better watch out."

Daria pushed the power button on her computer. "Hmm, I just told him that I have to drop down to sixteen hours a week this semester and he went along without much more than a comment about making up the time during summer." 

"Girl, do you need any more evidence that he's up to something?"

"Well, now I know what could be worse than teaching an eighth grade English class at 8:30 in the morning."

* * *

Taking a break from shoveling breakfast cereal into her mouth, Jane looked across the table at Daria. "What are you nervous about? Just face them down like you did while subbing at Lawndale."

Eating her cereal, Daria said, "Back then, I knew that I was only filling in for a couple days. I'm going to be these kids' teacher for the rest of the school year."

"Ah, the whole responsibility thing."

"That's a big part of it. Plus, a lot of them will be at the age of just discovering hormones." 

"Oh, yeah, say goodbye to their attention span." 

"Exactly."

Grinning, Jane said, "Wear something low-cut. That way, at least half the class will give you their undivided attention."

"It's a good thing I don't have anything like that."

Jane pointed her spoon at Daria. "That you wear in public. I've seen some of your hand laundry."

Daria glared back. "Only one person gets to see me in any of that. Oh, and speaking of hand laundry..." She leaned back in her chair and called out to the kitchen, "Karen, has Jane returned your saddle soap?"

Karen closed the dishwasher and stepped into the dining room. "She can keep it. I'll buy some more."

Unperturbed, Jane said, "Thanks. That industrial-sized can should last a while."

"Some of us actually use it to clean saddles." Karen quickly and pointedly added, "For riding horses," before Jane could make a comment.

* * *

Daria walked down a middle school corridor beside a handsome man with long, dirty blond hair pulled into a short ponytail. He adjusted his narrow, silver-rimmed glasses. "Ms. Morgendorffer, don't forget, I won't be far away if you really need help. The lesson plans are straightforward, but are open to adjustments to fit your teaching style."

"As long as I don't push things too far, right Mr. Lambert?"

"If you made it this far in the program, I doubt if that will be a problem."

He stopped at a classroom door and waited while a couple of students wandered in. After the school bell rang, Mr. Lambert nodded to Daria and then stepped inside, striding confidently to the front, center of the room. "Good morning, students, and welcome back. I hope everyone had a safe and enjoyable holiday."

Disinterested mumbling came from the students in reply.

"For the rest of the year, you will have a new teacher, an intern from Raft University. Everyone, meet Ms. Morgendorffer."

The mumbling changed tone slightly as Daria stepped forward to stand near Mr. Lambert. Drawing on her theater experience, she suppressed her anxiety and confidently said, "Good morning, class."

A weak chorus of "Good morning," from the class greeted her in return.

Daria scanned the class, about two-thirds of whom were paying attention or pretending. Several were whispering among themselves, others were staring out of the window and a couple more were reading something.

Near the back of the room, one boy giggled and raised his hand. "Ms. Morgendorker, can I go to the bathroom?"

Several students around him chuckled while the rest of the class watched Daria calmly walk between the rows of desks. As the class grew quiet, the steady tread of her boots on the tile floor became ominous. Daria stopped in front of the boy's desk and said, "Excuse me, I didn't catch your name."

"Um, it's Kevin," he gulped and answered.

_Why me? _"Kevin, would you care to repeat what you said?"

"Uh…Ms. Morgendorffer, can I go to the bathroom?"

"That's what I thought you said. Yes, you may. Pick up the hall pass on your way and come right back."

As Kevin made a fast retreat from the room, Daria went back to the front of the class, pausing to pick up a spiral-bound book from the teacher's desk. "Now, I'm going to take roll so that I can place names with faces. If I mangle your name, please correct me. Trust me, with a name like Morgendorffer, I know what it feels like."

After a brief laugh from the class, Daria started reading, "Marisa Aikens?"

* * *

"Employee parking, one of the best perks of my job," Daria said to herself as she hurried across the staff parking lot near the University Press building. Near a corner of the Quad, she stopped at a box and picked up a copy of The Mast to read on her way to class. The top headline caught her attention immediately.

**Faculty Senate to Investigate A&S Dean**

Based on an anonymous tip, Faculty Senate President Dr. Don Welsh instructed the Ethics Committee to begin an inquiry into the activities of Dr. Roland Killarny, Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences. While not disclosing any details, Dr. Welsh said, "We take reports like these very seriously and will thoroughly investigate the matter." When contacted, Dr. Killarny said, "I have not had a chance to examine the allegations in detail, so I cannot answer any specifics. However, I feel that I have held this office to the highest ethical standards."

Daria lifted an eyebrow and said, "Highest ethical standards? I wonder if I'm going to need a flak jacket?"

* * *

Having walked twice around the Quad, Daria stopped and sat against the back of a snow-dusted bench. "I'm starting to feel like a mail carrier," she said to her walking partner.

Looking up at the falling snow, Wendy said, "That doesn't look like sleet."

"It's still cold," Daria said, rubbing gloved hands together.

Seeing Michael approach from behind Daria, Wendy said to him, "Hey, you need to warm somebody up."

Wrapping his arms around Daria's waist, he said, "I can do that," before kissing the base of her neck.

She leaned back and kissed his cheek. "That would work even better inside a heated building, perhaps someplace that serves lunch."

"Lunch sounds good." Michael then looked over Daria's shoulder to ask, "Wendy, are you going to join us?"

She smirked and said, "Sorry, I'll have to take a rain check. There's a cute little redhead waiting to warm me up. Speaking of whom, I better get going before I'm late. Seeya!"  
After watching her friend hurry away, Daria said, "I think a bowl of chili over at Big Bean would be a nice warm-up; what do you think?"

"That works for me, but since I'm interviewing for that new position this afternoon, I'd better skip the beans and stick with a beef burrito."

Walking to the line of eateries across the street, Daria jokingly said, "Considering your reactivity to beans, that would be a good idea." 

Sarcastic, he said, "Uh-huh, as if you're not affected in the least."

"I'm not the one trying to get a new job." After some thought, Daria tentatively said, "But I'm beginning to wonder if I might need one."

"Oh?" he said, worried.

"Did you catch the article in today's paper about an investigation of Dr. Killarny?"

They stopped at a street corner and Michael pushed the call button for the pedestrian light. "I saw it. Do you think that it has anything to do with his grudge against your boss?"

"Maybe. If it does, and knowing how much those two hate each other, I wouldn't put it past Dr. Findlay to be involved. Especially since he was acting awfully smug yesterday. If things blow up, there could be a lot of collateral damage."

"Please don't get mad; I know we've gone over this before. Is the job worth it?" 

Sadly, Daria admitted, "Working there has been great experience, but now I'm having serious doubts. Even so, I want to see if I can ride it out and hope things get better."

When the light changed, he grasped her hand, knowing the futility of arguing against her will on the subject. Instead, he only said, "Be careful, okay?"

Half serious and half joking, she squeezed his hand and said, "Yes, dear."

* * *

Several feet short of turning a corner to reach the front of the University Press building, Daria heard Dr. Killarny say, "Daria, do you have a moment?"

_Dammit, dammit, dammit. I don't like this. _She answered, "Hi, Dr. Killarny. I only have ten minutes between my last class and when I have to start work, so I don't have long."

"I'm sure that you've heard that the Faculty Senate is looking into my activities. I wanted to let you know that I'm not the only one being investigated. There's been talk among certain people about personnel issues at the University Press, both past and present. Included in that talk is speculation about why Dr. Findlay upgraded your position from student employee with no benefits to part-time career service with benefits. That's very unusual." 

Cautiously, Daria said, "Are these people implying something?"

"They could," Dr. Killarny warned. "I would suggest that you distance yourself from Dr. Findlay. When I was the Editor in Chief, you were one of the most reliable students I ever had the pleasure to work for me. Because of that, I don't want to see anything happen to you because of somebody else's actions. I can assure you, though, that I'll be happy to put in a good word for you if needed."

_You son-of-a-bitch._ "Thank you for your concern, but I'm only trying to do my job and complete my studies. Excuse me, I really must get going or I will be late."

"Of course, Daria. Please, keep what I said in mind."

Walking away, Daria said, "I will."

* * *

Around the office, staff members were intent on their work or discreetly talking among themselves, producing an air that something was going on. Daria barely had a chance to sit down before Shelly said, "Put your creep-o-meter on maximum. Dr. Findlay's as happy as a cat in an aviary and Dr. Killarny was snooping around the staff during lunch looking for dirt. They must be at it again."

"Dr. Killarny talked to me on the way here. He was waiting like he knew my schedule."

"He probably does. More than a few people would love to see Dr. Findlay canned. I wouldn't doubt that they're feeding info to Dr. Killarny."

Daria started her computer. "I hope we can stay out of the crossfire."

"I hear you. God, I don't need this kind of stress."

Watching her monitor while the system loaded wallpaper and icons, Daria said, "Shelly, do you remember the manuscript that disappeared last summer and that I had to find or else I'd lose my job?"

Shelly replied, "How could I forget about you dumpster diving? That's still an office joke about dedication to your job."

"I haven't said anything, but I have a good reason to suspect that Dr. Killarny was the one who took the disk. I have a bad feeling that I'm going to get pulled into this mess, one way or the other."

"Do you think that is part of what has Findlay grinning so much?" 

"It could. Shelly, you sit next to me and I don't want anything spilling over on you."

"I'm a big girl. We can watch each other's backs." After a glance at the cubicle divider, Shelly said, "Or each other's sides."

"Thanks, but…thanks," Daria said, accepting the honest offer of support. "We better get to work before the boss notices." 

"Don't want to push his good mood too much," Shelly agreed.

Daria opened the document she'd been proofreading the previous day and scrolled down to her temporary bookmark to start again. Even though she tried to concentrate exclusively on the manuscript, a part of her mind continued to worry. _Dr. Killarny was right: my job reclassification looks like favoritism, even if I didn't ask for it and didn't have a chance to decline except by resigning. I know part of Dr. Findlay's reason was to make me feel obligated, but why would he do it in such an obvious way?_

Hmm, maybe I'm bait that he's dangling in the water to see if his target will take a bite. Or…maybe I'm a throwaway misdemeanor for which he can plead guilty, say he was sorry, and then fire me as a distraction from something else. Damn, damn, damn. 

From another part of her memory came an old saying: _"Old age and treachery will overcome youth and skill." _

She gazed at Dr. Findlay's office and whispered, "Not this time, old man. I don't know how, but not this time."

* * *

"Besides your academic interest and background, what makes you think that you are the best candidate for this position?"

Michael took a second to form his thoughts and said, "To begin, I worked four separate summers for my father as a surveyor. On the archeology side, there is my field experience during the summer of 1999, when I worked on a project in northern Michigan on a Native American midden site along the shore of Lake Michigan. Finally, there is my recent experience as a Park Service employee on the Freedom Trail. In my opinion, the combination of my surveying, field archeology and specific knowledge of the project site makes me a strong candidate for this position."

Satisfied with the answer, Jack dropped his chair forward to land flat on the floor. He tossed a set of sample questions on the table and said, "You've got this down, solid. No need to worry."

Also seated, Sean spun his sample question page on the table. "If you have the cojones to ask a girl to marry you, you're gonna fly through this. Good luck, dude."

Michael said, "Thanks for the dry run, guys. I hope that they don't come up with any really weird or surprising questions."

Clarice, the last occupant of the history department's small meeting room, said, "Then fake it. In this department, you should be used to that by now. Did anybody have a real answer for the last question on Prof. Blum's final exam last semester?"

The others in the room all shook their heads. 

"But all of us passed, proof-positive that we know how to fake it," she said with a confident, single nod of her head. 

"Can't argue with that logic," Sean said. "Though I'm confused about how Clarice came up with it."

"Trust me, every girl knows how to fake it," she snapped back. "Oh, I'm sorry; you haven't had a chance to discover that yet." 

Jack put on his trench coat. "I'm not going near that one."

"Don't look at me," Michael said, standing and stepping back.

Sean said, "Hey, a little backup here, huh guys?"

"You got yourself into that mess," Michael said, "We're not going to get you out." 

"You're on your own, buddy," Jack said.

Clarice went over to him and gave Sean a one-armed hug. "Tell you what - some of the girls on the fourth floor of my dorm…"

He ducked away, saying, "Thanks for the offer, but if I'm going to crash and burn, it's going to be on my terms."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

After a fast knock, the department's graduate affairs secretary entered and went straight to the coffee machine. She started to prepare a fresh batch and said, "Sorry, kids, time's up. There's a doctoral committee meeting here in five minutes and I need to get the room ready." 

Michael said, "We're done and not getting anything else accomplished. Thanks for letting us use the room."

"No problem."

A harried man in his mid-twenties ran into the room carrying a box of donuts. "I hope these are okay." 

The secretary opened the box and glanced inside. Pointing and counting, she said, "Three jelly, two creams, three crullers, two éclairs and two bear claws. That should keep the beasts at bay, as long as they're not stale."

The new grad student said, "I made sure that they're fresh."

As the undergraduates left the room, they could hear the secretary, sounding like a mother hen, saying, "Good, now relax. The main goal of this meeting is to prepare your basic program of study. Every one of your advisors will insist that you take their courses…"

On their way down the hallway, Jack lightly slapped Michael's shoulder, "Good luck. You've got a good shot at this."

"Yeah, good luck," Sean said. "With your big pay raise, we can hit you up for the pizza more often."

Clarice quickly hugged Michael and said, "Good luck."

Michael said, "Thanks again, everyone. See you tomorrow," as he turned a corner to one of the exits.

After Michael departed, Sean said to Clarice, "Hey, why did he get a two-arm hug and I only got one arm?"

"He needs the good vibes today; you only need a good brain transplant."

"What did I do?" Jack said. "I didn't even get one arm."

Shaking her head in disbelief, Clarice hugged Jack and then Sean. "I swear that you two are worse than a couple of brats."

* * *

Feeling butterflies in his stomach, Michael stepped into the conference room and closed the door. Seated at the table were his boss and a slender man with deeply tanned skin and blond hair that was sun bleached almost white. Mr. Morrison said, "Mr. Fulton, this is Prof. Daniels."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Michael said.

Prof. Daniels remained seated but extended his hand. "Good afternoon, young man. You have an interesting resume." 

"Please, be seated," Mr. Morrison said.

Following the cue, Michael sat and said, "Thank you."

Prof. Daniels said, "Your resume adequately addresses your background and qualifications, though I'm curious about one thing."

"Yes, sir?"

"You were accepted into the Cerretti program and slated to matriculate a year and a half ago. Why are you still in Boston?"

Michael spun his ring around his finger. "My girlfriend, now fiancée, wouldn't have been able to come with me. Even if it set my career back, I feel that I made the right decision."

The Bromwell professor nodded wordlessly and looked back down at Michael's resume.

"Mr. Fulton, most of your academic interest is in European archeology, particularly Imperial Rome, and your practical experience is with Pre-Columbian Native American," Mr. Morrison said before asking, "What do you know about the history and archeology of Colonial New England?" 

"There's a lot that I've learned on the job between the park service staff, some of the living history staff and the naval crew of the Constitution. That's led me to independently read up on the time period, both for my own curiosity and to help answer the occasional guest question."

Prof. Daniels said, "I don't see anything on your resume about GIS. Do you have any experience?"

"No, sir. I know some of the basic ideas, but I don't have any practical experience," Michael replied, flustered about the gap in his knowledge.

The professor nodded silently and continued to examine the resume.

Half an hour later, the interview was over and Michael slumped in a chair in the break room, emotionally tired, but satisfied. Nguyen saw him through the door window and stepped in. "How did the big interview go?"

"I kept my foot out of my mouth and otherwise think I did okay. Hopefully, more okay than the other candidates."

Nguyen fed quarters into the soda machine and came back with two colas. "Sounds good, but looks like you could use a drink to wind down."

"Now that you mention it," Michael said, accepting the can. "Thanks." 

"How long until you hear anything from them?" 

"Prof. Daniels needs to get back to Bromwell, so they said that they'd have a decision within a couple of days."

* * *

The next morning, Daria walked from her car to class while taking a quick look at the short essays she'd had her class write that morning. "These don't look too different from the tests I gave to Mr. O'Neill's class. Considering those were tenth graders and my class is eighth, they're doing pretty good." 

She stopped at one and read it a little closer before letting out a chuckle. "You're going to have to do better than that if you want to shock me. Angst should be applied with precision, not randomly splattered." Looking up before proceeding, Daria noticed the newspaper box and groaned when she saw the headline.

**University Press Under Investigation**

****

Reports have reached the Faculty Senate concerning personnel problems at the Raft University Press. These include experienced staff replaced by lower-paid new staff members while other employees have received uncharacteristic promotions or bonuses. When asked about possible cronyism or favoritism, Editor in Chief Dr. Ian Findlay replied, "There are staff changes any time a new leader takes over the reins of an institution and the University Press is no exception." 

Daria grumbled, "Round two has started, and I'm sure to be looked at as someone who received an 'uncharacteristic promotion or bonus.' Terrific."

Sighing, she put the essays in a folder, slipped her backpack from her shoulders and placed them in a wide pocket. "I hope I can concentrate on them after work; my mood's gone now."

* * *

During their daily walk, Wendy said to Daria, "You're not walking, you're stomping. Are you that worried about stuff at work?"

"Yes," Daria said. "I could really be in a bind. Maybe I should've quit when Dr. Findlay first started. It would've saved me a lot of grief." 

"Hey, how could you know he was going to be more than an ordinary ass?"

"I couldn't, but he was still enough of an ass to be a good reason to leave then."

"Then why didn't you?"

"I thought I had a better reason to stay. Looks like I was wrong."

Trying levity, Wendy said, "College is about learning from your mistakes." 

"And it gives you so many opportunities to make them." 

"What's your plan?"

"The truth. I'll explain what I know and what I don't know to anyone who asks. I've been caught in the middle once. I'm not taking either side. I'm taking mine."

"That'll probably piss off both of them."

"Yeah, probably, but I'll be able to live with myself."

Wendy half-smiled in admiration. "In the end, you can't ask for more than that."

* * *

The University Press was oppressively quiet when Daria entered that afternoon. The only conversations heard were in concealed whispers. Taking her seat, Daria nodded to Dr. Findlay's office and whispered to Shelly, "I know he's in a bad mood; how bad?"

"Worse, he's acting like everything's normal even though Dr. Cho from the ethics committee has been in and out interviewing staff."

"Ouch." 

"Dr. Cho asked about you earlier."

"I'm not surprised. Remember my reclassification?"

"Oh yeah…oh crap."

"Yeah. Is Dr. Cho still around?" 

"He left about half an hour ago. You might be off the hook for today."

"I hope so."

About an hour later, Dr. Findlay opened his office door and said, "Daria, a moment, please."

"Yes, Dr. Findlay." Daria saved her work and stood.

Shelly whispered, "Good luck." 

Daria gave her a brief nod of thanks before going into her boss's office. Dr. Findlay was already seated at his desk and motioned for Daria to sit in one of the office chairs. He said, "I'm sure that you've already heard the office scuttlebutt about Dr. Cho interviewing staff members."

"I have," she answered.

"He had a prior commitment and couldn't complete his interviews today. You will be one of those he will interview tomorrow."

Daria nodded.

"He'll want to know about how you became career service. Simply tell him about how you went above and beyond duty to find a valuable, missing manuscript."

"All of it?"

"Yes, all of it. I have a reputation for being a hard taskmaster that is well earned. I was very serious when I said that if you hadn't found that file, you would've been terminated. Instead, you found the file and were rewarded for your work. Simple as that."

"What about your decision not to tell the campus police?"

"That hasn't changed. Since you and your boyfriend handled the disk, there was no confirmed chain of custody and the police wouldn't have been able to use it for evidence against anyone. With no evidence, why bother? I'm sure Dr. Cho would agree."

Daria asked, "If you want me to tell the truth, why the pep talk?"

"I didn't want you to be tempted to gloss anything over. Something like that would look bad for you and we wouldn't want that."

"No, sir."

"Okay, then. Go on back to work and we'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

Daria politely left Dr. Findlay's office and worked hard to keep her smoldering anger from showing. _"Something like that would look bad for you and we wouldn't want that." Funny how you have the same concern for my well-being as Dr. Killarny._

* * *

"Hey, Daria," Lewis said as he opened the apartment door. "Michael's in the kitchen. How are you doing?"

Tired, Daria said, "I've been better."

"Is it the Creeping Collegiate Crud that's going around?"

"I wish."

"Eww. I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Just my asshole boss and his asshole boss with me in between."

"No wonder loverboy over there's been working extra hard at making dinner."

Carrying a casserole to the dinner table, Michael said, "I hope you like it, Daria."

"I'm glad just to be with you tonight," she said, going to him. 

Waving goodbye, Lewis said, "I'm not going to be a third wheel and I have a paper revision that I need to get back to my advisor first thing in the morning. I'll be in my room, so don't make too much noise."

"We promise," Daria said while gratefully embracing Michael. "Thanks for dinner." 

Dropping the oven mitts on the table to free his hands, Michael wrapped his arms around her. "You're welcome, but you haven't even tried it yet."

"If it's good, I'll enjoy a nice meal. If it's bad, maybe it'll kill me and I won't have to go to work tomorrow. A win both ways."

"I assume that has something to do with Dr. Findlay also being investigated." 

"I know those two bastards are just using the system to get at each other and screw anyone that gets in their way or that they need."  
"Are they trying to get the other fired?" 

Daria released him and said, "I don't think so. If either one had sufficient evidence to get the other's tenure revoked, they'd have pulled it out already."

Stepping back into the kitchen, Michael picked up a holder with two tall taper candles. "Then what do they have to gain?"

"More like what they can make the other lose, such as their prestigious positions of dean and editor in chief. Hmm, I thought of something. If they both succeed, they're both screwed. Nicely symmetrical Pyrrhic victories and I'll get a new boss out of the deal." 

Michael looked closely into Daria's eyes. "You're really mad at them, aren't you?"

"Both of them are too well practiced at using people. Who knows how many have already been hurt by their little rivalry."

Michael lit the candles from a match and said, "Can I take your mind off of that for a little while tonight?"

Her tense muscles suddenly relaxed. "Please." Remembering, she said, "You said last night on the phone that you made it through your interview. How did that go?"

He pulled out a chair to let Daria sit. "I can confidently say that I didn't put my foot in my mouth."

* * *

Leaving her room, Karen stopped and stared at the hand-bound book that Daria carried out of hers and said, "Don't you normally keep that thing booby-trapped?"

Bleary-eyed, Daria looked at her diary and said, "I wrote about everything that happened. With the advanced notice, I can bring this along to back up my memory." 

"Ah. You know, you look pretty wiped out this morning." 

"I was up late last night, or more accurately, early this morning, grading essays. I guess I shouldn't have stayed at Michael's so long."

"I'm sure he was a lot more interesting than the essays."

Daria yawned and shook her head. "He was, but I'm going to have to plan things better. This student teaching is going to take a lot more time that I originally thought."

"You're the one who wanted a double major."

"Guilty," Daria said, following Karen into the kitchen. "There is one thing I miss about high school." 

"Oh?" Karen asked, intensely curious.

"I had plenty of time to lounge around and be lazy. Things just seem to keep building up and I have less and less time."

"Doesn't life just suck at times?"

"Yeah, but as my mother once said, it's better than the alternative."

* * *

Hoping that the students were in their assigned seats, Daria walked through the class returning the essays while continuing to match faces to names. "These were some interesting essays. You'll notice that there isn't a grade on them. After you have a chance to look, I'll pick them back up. At the end of the semester, they will be returned and you will re-write the essay for a grade. Any questions?"

A girl with her brown hair in a single braid raised her hand. "Ms. Morgendorffer?"

Daria quickly checked the seating chart. "Yes…Katherine?"

"Everyone calls me Kath." 

"Okay, Kath, you had a question?"

The girl held up her paper for Daria to see. "What's this weird little loopy squiggle?"

Daria walked over to look. "It means that comma wasn't needed."

"Why didn't you just draw a line through it?"

"I could, but would you be able to tell if it was a real line, or an accidental mark?" Daria crossed back to the final row of students and returned the last papers on her way to the whiteboard. "That's why I used a proofreader's mark, so that you can see it is not a random pen scratch. Some people might say that you're too young to learn these, but I don't think so."

Picking up a marker, Daria wrote some common proofreader's symbols on the board and started to explain them.

* * *

Just before Daria reached the office door at work, it was opened and an oriental man in his mid to late forties stepped out. He spoke with a precise and formal accent cultivated by years at some of Britain's best universities. "Miss Morgendorffer, I'm most pleased to meet you."

"Oh, hi, you must be Dr. Cho. I wasn't expecting you so quickly."

"I was informed that 3:00 PM was your starting time today and I wished to complete our interview right away to minimize any disruption to your work. If you will please follow me, we may begin."

"Okay." 

The trim professor led Daria to a small conference room and closed the door before pulling out a chair. "Please have a seat."

Surprised by his formality and manners, Daria said, "Thanks," and sat down.

Dr. Cho took a seat directly facing Daria and removed a folder from a briefcase resting on the table. "In the last ten years, only six student employees at this university have been reclassified to career service positions."

"I knew that it was very unusual; I didn't know that it was that rare."

"Please explain how you earned this promotion."

"In simple terms, I crawled into the dumpster behind the building and found a disk containing a valuable manuscript that someone had intentionally thrown away." Daria opened her backpack and removed the diary. "If you want full details, I wrote everything in here." 

"Most intriguing. Do you mind if I look?"

Daria hesitated before she opened the book to the relevant page and turned it for Dr. Cho to see. "I used bookmarks for the pages with the relevant entries." Starting to blush, she asked, "If you will please skip the parts that are, um, personal, I'd appreciate it."

"That would be very rude of me to do otherwise. Don't worry, young lady." After an examination of the volume, he said, "This is excellent craftsmanship. Yours?" 

"No, that was a gift from my boy…fiancé." 

"A touching gesture." He started to read, and after a couple minutes, he said without stopping, "What do you think about Dr. Findlay and Dr. Killarny?"

After a minute or so, he asked while continuing to read, "What do you think about Dr. Findlay and Dr. Killarny?"

Daria remembered her meeting with Superintendent Cartwright during the Ultra Cola incident at Lawndale High. This felt similar, except that Daria was confident in her stand this time. "I think that they are using the system as a tool in a long-standing and bitter rivalry. They don't care who they harm in the process; all that really matters is that they score points against the other, as if this was some kind of game. Dr. Cho, to be honest with you, I can't be certain who really did what any more. The writer in me can picture Dr. Findlay as the one who put the disk in the trash and then leaked the word to Dr. Killarny. Then there's the fact that the disk was taped inside an envelope and put in a plastic bag so that after a week in a dumpster, it wasn't ruined. Maybe Dr. Killarny did take it and expected to retrieve it, or have someone retrieve it for him. However, I got there first." 

Dr. Cho nodded, but didn't stop reading and, in fact, started taking notes.

Daria continued, "There are too many odd occurrences. Like the fact that there wasn't a backup copy of the file on my hard drive like I habitually keep. Granted, it could've been a mistake on my part, but it also could've been deleted without my knowledge. The more I look at it, the more everything looks like a spy novel with several important pages missing."

Looking up from the diary, Dr. Cho said, "Everyone else I've interviewed either remembered nothing, or only remember one particular side. Between your writing and what you just said, I've probably come closer to the truth than I had with all of the other interviews. The details you recorded in your diary have helped me to fill in some missing information and your observations have helped to confirm some of mine. I'm very appreciative."

"So what happens now?"

"I'll present my findings to the Ethics Committee and they will present a recommendation to the Senate." 

"What could happen to them?"

"With a committee, there are no guarantees. They might agree to anything from nothing to a demotion to regular professor."

"Which leaves me rather exposed, doesn't it?"

"Regrettably, yes, Miss Morgendorffer. Neither one of them can take overt action against you, but there are unfortunate loopholes in the university's whistleblower protections."

_You did the right thing, Morgendorffer. The price was high, but at least you're the only one who'll have to pay it._

Conciliatory, Dr. Cho said, "I wish I could offer you more. They will probably try to make your life difficult."

Fully resolved, Daria said, "Dr. Cho, for many years when I lived in Highland, I dealt with two moronic boys who tried to make my life miserable. If I can survive them, I can survive anything these two can throw at me. I know what I have to do."

After the meeting, Daria wordlessly went to her desk and started the word processor on her computer. Shelly leaned around the cubicle wall to say something, but stopped, sighed silently and went back to her work.

Several minutes later, Daria walked over to the network printer, read the page and signed it. Still without a word, she went to Dr. Findlay's office and knocked.

When he told her to come in, Daria squarely placed the letter on Dr. Findlay's desk and said, "As per university policy, here is my formal, one-week notice of resignation."

He looked up in annoyance, knowing she didn't play the game as she was expected. Coldly precise, Dr. Findlay said, "Accepted, but also by university policy, I'm granting you one week of terminal leave and will make your resignation immediate. Clear your desk, complete your time sheet and be out of the building within the hour."

* * *

The staff around the editorial office studiously watched their computer screens while Daria cleared her files from the computer and emptied the few possessions from her desk. Well before her hour was up, Daria turned the computer off and pulled her backpack onto her shoulders and walked to the door.

Shelly hurried after her and sadly whispered, "Good luck, Daria. I wish I was heading out with you."

"You can. I should've left long ago. Nothing's stopping you."

Shelly furtively looked back and then said to Daria, "I've been looking, but I really can't afford to leave until I have something else. Wish me luck, please?" 

"Good luck."

"Keep in touch." 

"Okay." Daria nodded her head toward Dr. Findlay's office. "You better get back to work before he blows his stack." 

"Oops, yeah. Good-bye."

"Bye." 

Shelly closed the door and left Daria staring at the building. "Why does doing the right thing still have to suck so often? It's a safe bet that I won't get any glowing letters of recommendation from my time here." She harshly laughed and added, "But my schedule is going to be a lot easier to work around."

Slowly, she turned and walked through the parking lot to her car. She stopped and stared at the parking decal on the back bumper before picking at a corner to start pulling it off. "It was nice while it lasted, but Findlay will have parking enforcement notified by morning that I'm no longer staff. Looks like I might have to start taking the subway."

* * *

"Okay, not that I'm complaining, but I wonder what Michael's doing here," Daria said to herself as she parked her car. Tired but still feeling like a great weight had been lifted from her frame, she hustled up the stairs and entered the apartment.

Seated at the table with Karen and Michael, Jane said, "It's about time you got here. Now we can eat." Without further delay, Jane opened one of the large pizza boxes on the table and pulled two slices free. 

"What's the occasion?" Daria asked.

Already reaching out to embrace her, Michael said, "Well, I figured that if you had a good interview today, you'd want to celebrate and if you had a bad interview, pizza might cheer you up. Plus…I got the job. I start next week."

Daria let him hold her tight as she whispered, "Congratulations."

* * *

One morning the following week, Daria crossed the street from a subway station and stopped at a paper box to grab the day's issue of The Mast.

**Two Professors Censured by Faculty Senate**

****

Following a confidential report of the Ethics Committee citing "behavior unbecoming of a professor and gentleman" as well as "misuse of official university procedures," the Faculty Senate voted to formally censure Arts and Sciences Dean Dr. Roland Killarny and the Editor in Chief of the Raft University Press, Dr. Ian Findlay. The censure means that they will be denied a pay increase at the beginning of the next fiscal year, will be ineligible for any Raft University Foundation grant support, and must work with an Ethics Mentor for the next twelve months to restore their eligibility for grant support.

Daria folded the paper and continued toward her class. From a corner of her mind, she started wondering how she would've chosen if she'd been responsible for two daughters. _Mom, I hope Quinn and I were worth it._

* * *

Thanks to Louise Lobinske, Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

May 2007


	9. A Star for the Window

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.   
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2007 

This is the 57th story in the Falling into College series. 

Richard Lobinske

**A Star for the Window**

Bundled against the cold, Jane ran up the steps to her apartment two at a time, cradling a grocery bag full of boxed tea and ice cube trays. She stopped at the landing and kicked ice and snow from her boots before going inside. The mouth-watering aroma of gourmet hot cocoa greeted her as she closed the door and hung her winter coat on the rack. 

Seeing the back of two heads close together on the sofa, Jane loudly sniffed the air and said, "I know what you've been up to." 

Daria turned her head and said, "At least we're dressed," before sipping from her mug of cocoa. 

Going to her room, Jane explained, "Hey, how were we supposed to know that you'd be home early?" 

Michael also turned and said, "I swear that Mike blushed more than you did." 

"Hey, Mack's still learning to loosen up." Jane performed a clumsy pirouette. "Besides, I might try performance art someday. You can't show fear or embarrassment." 

"You're not trying one for the Ice Tea Party this year?" 

"Thought of it, but Mack didn't want to cooperate. He said something about he didn't want it showing up on an Internet search someday." 

"Speaking of Mike, where is he?" Daria asked. 

Jane crossed to the sofa and leaned over the back to see that they were dressed for strictly around the house, Daria in a baggy sweatshirt, shorts and fuzzy slippers, Michael in a worn sweater, old jeans and plaid socks. Jane smirked and said, "Mack's being a gentleman and picking up pizza for dinner. We assumed that our remaining partners in crime will be here shortly, is that right?" 

"Last I heard," Daria said. "Derek is once again trying to introduce Karen to the concept of ice hockey at the Raft Castaways home game today. They'll probably swing by his apartment before coming here, but should be here soon." 

Jane said, "I still say that Raft needs to change the sports teams' mascot." 

Michael said, "They're too cheap to cut a marketing deal with Wilson Sporting Goods." 

Jane shook her head. "How about a little creative license? Write 'Woodrow' on a volleyball and they're covered." 

"I suppose that they could get blood for the hand-print face from the Med School or the Vet School," Michael suggested. 

"The boy does have a bit of the creative bug in him," Jane said. "If you'll pardon me, I'm off to the kitchen to start brewing more tea for tomorrow."

* * *

Grabbing his second slice of pizza from the boxes at the center of the dinner table, Mike said, "The next thing we know, Gatorbait dives into the car window holding Delta house's giant beer stein and yelling 'Floor it!' Which, of course, we did." 

"So 'Mr. Responsible' has a history now," Daria said, with droll emphasis. "Nice to see you coming out of your shell." 

Hearing thumps on the landing, Jane said, "Ah, our missing children seem to have arrived." 

Michael said, "And we even left them some pizza." 

Wordless, Karen and Derek entered and removed their coats. As everyone watched, Karen walked to the table and said, "Sorry to spoil the party, folks. Derek found this in the mail when he got home after the game." 

She placed an opened letter on the table, which Daria picked up to read. 

**Pvt. Adler, Derek A.   
Company B, 21 Infantry Regiment   
Massachusetts National Guard **

By order of the Regimental Commander under the direction of CENTCOM and effective 0800 EST, 1 February, 2002, Pvt. Adler will report to Camp Edwards for active duty deployment with his unit for up to one year. 

Derek plainly said, "It's a good bet that I'll be going to Afghanistan." 

Mike said, "Maybe you'll get lucky and you'll get sent to someplace like Germany." 

Derek shook his head. "Several of the old-timers were around for Desert Storm. They warned us that something like this might be in the works, and if things go like they did ten years ago, we'll be in the thick of it." 

"That sucks," Jane said. 

Derek sat and reached for one slice. "It's what I agreed to when I enlisted and took Uncle Sam's money for college." 

"Damn, what about your classes?" Michael asked. 

"Everything goes on hold and I'll have to pick up when I get back. I'll get Involuntary Incompletes for this semester and should be able to restart all of the classes without penalty. The hard part is that I didn't anticipate having someone important to leave behind when I enlisted." 

"Karen, how are you holding up?" Daria asked her friend. 

Karen sat in the chair next to Daria. "I'm scared, really scared." 

"You're not the only one," Derek said, reaching over to hold Karen's hand. 

Jane asked, "Can't you get a deferment for college or something?" 

"This isn't the sixties," Derek answered. "I didn't think that I'd really be called up when I enlisted in the Guard, but I knew it was possible. I gave my word; I have to go." 

"Is it possible for you to be assigned to a rear area?" Mike asked. 

"I'm a ground-pounder. It's my job to be at the front." 

Karen pulled the topping from the corner of one pizza slice and started to nibble. "I can't imagine what it's going to be like to have Derek away for a whole year." 

Daria looked at Michael and Jane turned to Mack as they tried to comprehend the idea.

* * *

Late that night, Daria stopped at Karen's door and gently knocked, entering upon hearing her friend's soft invitation. 

"You okay?" 

Curled up on the bed and clutching a pillow, Karen shook her head before hoarsely saying, "No." Her eyes were red and her face was tired from crying. "Now I know a little of what you must've felt when you thought Michael was going to Italy." 

"That was different," Daria said. 

"In the details. Otherwise, it's the same. Derek's going to be half a world away and I'm going to feel like I've been torn in half." 

"There is that." 

"I don't want to lose him." 

"You're not going to lose him. He loves you." 

"That won't stop a bullet." Karen started crying again. "I could lose him and not be able to do a damn thing to stop it." 

Cautiously, Daria inched closer. "This also has something to do with Laura, doesn't it?" 

Karen nodded. "Daria, how would you feel if you'd lost Jane in high school and now faced the risk of losing Michael?" 

After a moment's hesitation, Daria put her arm around Karen. "I'd be in the same shape you are." 

"Thanks, I knew you'd understand." 

"Karen, you've been there for me when I needed a friend. I'll do whatever I can to help. I'm sure Jane will, too."

* * *

In his small apartment, Derek angrily dropped the phone onto its cradle. "Bastard." 

Sitting on the loveseat next to him, Karen said, "He won't let you out of the lease?" 

"Nope. 'Sorry, a contract's a contract.' Bastard. Like I'm doing this to him on purpose." 

"So, what are you going to do?" 

"I guess I'll have to sublet, with all the headaches that go with it." He looked up and said, "Need a new place?" 

"Sorry, but you know that I've given my word to Daria and Jane." 

"Maybe they'll know somebody who can move in." 

"We can ask. I'll also check with people in my classes." 

He looked around. "I guess we better start looking for boxes. I have less than two weeks to pack. At least Mom and Dad aren't too far away; I can leave my stuff there instead of paying for a storage unit." 

"Between my truck and your car, we should be able to get everything in a couple of trips. Maybe one if we rent a trailer; my truck has a hitch." 

Derek grunted an acknowledgement before saying, "We're not even going to get to spend Valentine's Day together." 

"Or your birthday. But we should be together next year┘with a lot of time to make up for." 

"Time. This is going to set me back at least a year, maybe more, depending on exactly when I can get reregistered for school. You'll graduate and be off to vet school while I'm still working on my degree." 

Karen grasped his hand. "In that case, I'll have to go to Raft's vet school. After all, I am starting to like it here." 

"So, you think I'm worth staying around for, huh?" 

"You're a keeper." 

Exaggerating his Massachusetts accent, Derek asked, "Even though I'm a 'damn Yankee'?" 

Fully using her southern accent, Karen replied, "Tain't nobody perfect." 

"That's what my mother always told me." 

"She must be worried." 

Derek leaned over to rest his head on Karen's lap. "So's Dad. They're also worried about you and want you to remember that you're always welcome to visit." 

"I won't forget. I like them, remember?" She bent forward to kiss him. "Don't forget that I'm worried about you, either." 

"As if you'll let me."

* * *

Bundled in a heavy jacket, CC meandered through the growing ice sculptures until she found Jane and Nell. "At it again, I see," she quipped at her friends. 

Jane was crouched on the ground, stacking differently tinted ice cubes in a pyramid. "Hey, CC. What's up?" 

Seated on a low, rolling stool, Nell chipped away at a very dark block of ice. She placed the chisel and mallet on top and said, "Decided to brave the cold, or just looking?" 

"I get enough cold drafts at work. I'm only here to watch the crazy people." 

Nell said, "And to score some of the hot cider inside." 

"Who am I to pass up hot cider?" CC inspected the proto-artwork and said, "Let me guess: still secret?" 

"Of course," Jane said. 

Nell shook one of her crutches and said, "I'd have to kill you. Since I only have this, it would be slow and bloody." She paused and muttered, "Hmmm." 

"You can only tint the ice with tea," Jane said, surmising her friend's thought. 

"Oh, yeah. By the way, CC, what's up with you, lately?" 

"Oh, about the same. Working up a new costume for my routine and trying to keep the dorm kiddies from wrecking the place." 

Nell asked, "Got any room? My landlord sold the building and the new owner wants everyone out by the middle of next month because he wants to turn it into a condo." 

Jane looked up and said, "Karen's boyfriend is looking for someone to sublet his apartment. I'll get his number for you." 

"I'd kinda feel weird sharing a place with a guy I've only met a couple times." 

"It's a one-bedroom apartment." 

"That's even weirder." 

"Derek's in the National Guard and he's been called up for active duty. He needs someone by the end of the month. Karen says that his landlord won't let him out of the lease, so he needs someone reliable to finish it off." 

Suddenly cold, CC wrapped her arms around herself and said, "So much for all this fresh air, guys. I'm heading inside." 

"See you later, CC," Jane said. 

Nell said, "Later." To Jane, she then said, "That really sucks for him, but I'll ask about the apartment. I really could use a place. Do you know how much he's paying a month?" 

"No clue." 

"I hope I can afford it."

* * *

With add/drop well over and pre-registration still a month and a half away, the Registrar's office was quiet when Derek entered on Monday morning. The receptionist looked up from her paperback and said, "May I help you?" 

Derek opened his orders and showed them to her. "My name's Derek Adler and I need to change my student status to Inactive-Returning. My Guard unit's been called up for active duty." 

Empathetic, the receptionist said, "Oh, dear. I hope you're going to be all right." 

"I hope so, too." 

"You'll need to see Mrs. Wychurst. Your student number, please." 

"810205-5438." 

The receptionist typed the number and said, "Okay, please have a seat and I'll call you when she's ready." 

"Thanks." Derek nodded and took a seat in the waiting room, picking up a copy of _The Mast_ as he did. Thinking of the dangers ahead of him, the stories and concerns in the paper seemed almost insignificant. 

A few minutes later, a slender black woman in her late thirties approached him and said, "Mr. Adler, if you'll follow me, please." 

He stood and asked, "Mrs. Wychurst?" 

"That's me." 

She directed him into an office and offered him a chair before sitting behind her desk. "I've taken the liberty of bringing up your records. May I see your activation orders?" 

He passed them across the desk and said, "Here, ma'am." 

"Thank you." She quickly read the letter and then typed on her computer keyboard. "Your professors will be officially notified in writing and by e-mail. I'm sure that you have a lot to do before leaving, so I'm making the effective date today." 

"Thanks." 

"You need to go to Financial Services to tell them how you want this semester's tuition payment handled. Either a refund now, or we can credit you the same number of credit hours when you return." 

"Okay, anything else?" 

"Nothing here. Once you contact the finance office, you'll be done. I would suggest talking to your professors; they're not always the best at reading their mail."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Derek stepped out of Founder's Hall and looked over the Quad. Brown paths through the snow marked shortcuts across the clear space. Here and there, students hurried between buildings, while the numerous benches sat empty and dusted with snow. Raft, the focus of his life for the last two and a half years, tugged at him, as if a living entity, to stay. But another part of his mind was already disconnecting. His life would be focused on something very different soon and Raft would only be a pleasant memory. 

"Damn."

* * *

Sitting on the stool, Nell continued to carve as the ice block started to take on the shape of an anvil partially embedded into the ground. She said, "You have your ducks in a row this year at work, don't you?" 

Looking up from a seemingly random pile of small blocks, Jane said, "Jane Lane has learned her lesson about pissing off public affairs. Everything is in order, signed, dotted, notarized, sealed, stamped, folded, spindled and mutilated." 

"It's cool that you're getting the kids involved again." 

Jane carefully placed another cube. "I have a reputation to uphold, and besides, they really love getting to be part of a grown-up contest." 

Stopping to cup her hands around a thermos of hot cider, Nell asked, "Jane, do you have time to give me a ride tonight? I can take the T if I need to, but I'm still a little nervous late at night." 

"I guess. Where to?" 

"I called Derek and I'm going to look at the apartment. The rent's only a little more than I'm paying now and his building has an elevator." 

"A bonus for you." 

"Don't you know it." 

"I can give you a ride; that's what friends are for." 

"Cool."

* * *

"He didn't say it was a big elevator," Nell told Jane. 

Reading the information plate, Jane said, "Maximum capacity 800 lbs. Don't try to move a piano." 

Looking at the space that might hold four people, Nell said, "Good luck fitting one in here." 

"This place has stairs too, right?" 

"He said that there were stairs and fire escapes. Plenty of ways for me to break my neck." 

The door opened and they stepped into a hallway. Jane said, "At least it's only the second floor and not high enough for you to go 'splat.'" 

The room was only a short distance away and they could see stairs at the end of the hall. When Nell pressed the doorbell button, the unit produced an annoying buzz. "Charming." 

Karen pulled the door open. "Hey, come on in." 

Empty cardboard boxes were stacked in the living room. Jane tilted her head and read the labels. "Petri dishes┘tissue culture plates┘pipette tips. It looks like you and Derek raided a lab." 

From his room, Derek said, "I stopped by the microbiology department's supply room and asked for empties and managed to get some before they were flattened." 

Nell looked at a box marked, "_Escherichia coli_ stock cultures," and said, "I really hope that they were empty." 

Derek said, "What's a little gastrointestinal flora among friends? Hi, Jane." Pointing, he added, "Nell, you're in the living room, the kitchen is crammed into that corner, the bathroom is there and the bedroom there. Go ahead and look around and ask if you have any questions." 

Going toward the bathroom, Nell said, "Please, don't let there be anything embarrassing in there." 

Examining the minimally furnished room, with only a pair of towels, a toothbrush, razor, tube of toothpaste, bottle of shampoo and one bar of soap visible, Nell said, "Not bad for a guy's bathroom; must be the military training." 

Stepping back into the hallway, she saw Derek and Karen's faces and said, "Oops, sorry about that." 

Karen said, "Not your fault." 

Nell whispered, "Thanks," before looking into the bedroom. It was a bit cluttered. Several shelf units were filled with books, a couple of filled boxes were already residing on the floor and the bed was unmade. Nell worked her way through, looked into the closet and was satisfied that it was adequate for her needs. She came out of the room and said, "I'll take it." 

Derek asked, "Are you sure?" 

"Hey, it has everything I need." 

"I have to report on the first, which is a week from Friday. I suppose you can start moving in then." 

Nell said, "What about your landlord? Should I meet him?" 

"I'll give him your name when I tell him about the sublet. I'm sure he'll poke his nose in soon enough to introduce himself." 

"He's not creepy or anything, is he?" 

"Nah, just a hardnosed ass who watches the place like it was plated in gold. Probably comes from renting to college students for too long." 

"Considering my freshman roommate, I can see that."

* * *

Leaving the zoo early the next evening, Karen did a double-take at seeing CC waiting next to Karen's truck. When she was closer, she said, "CC? Why are you here?" 

Sounding much more subdued than normal, CC said, "Um┘I thought I'd let you know that if you need to talk with someone who understands, I'm available." 

"Huh?" 

CC took a step closer. "I'm an army brat, remember?" 

"Oh, yeah." 

"My dad was with the 82nd Airborne and was sent down to Panama in '89." 

Sensing how much CC was letting her guard down, Karen said, "We were what, eight?" 

"Yeah." 

"I'm sure you were glad that didn't last long." 

"We were. But then, my mom was deployed to Saudi Arabia late the next year." 

"How long was she there?" 

CC looked at the ground and didn't say anything for several seconds. "About six months." 

Karen started to ask, "Didn't you once say that your mother died┘dear God." 

CC muttered, "Dammit, I didn't mean to bring that part up. I only wanted to let you know that I understand how scared you can be for someone." 

"Wh...what happened?" 

Eyes damp, CC said, "Mom was with the Quartermaster Corps and attached to the XVIIIth Airborne Corps. After Kuwait was liberated, the deuce and a half Mom was riding in hit a land mine." CC stopped and stared at the ground. "She was airlifted to Germany but died before Dad and I could see her." 

Karen reached over and hugged CC. "I'm sorry I asked." 

CC said, "I hope you don't need me for that." 

"Me, too." After a couple moments, Karen asked, "How did your parents cope with one or the other being sent overseas? I'm going to need all the advice I can get."

* * *

Running at an easy trot between classroom buildings, Derek called, "Hey, Michael! Hold up." 

In a group of other history students, Michael said, "Just a second, everyone." 

The one woman in the group smirked and said, "Some guy's chasing after you. I think we need to warn Daria." 

"Funny, Clarissa," Michael said, "That's Daria's roommate's boyfriend." 

Sean said, "That sounds even more twisted." 

"Only if the roommate is involved, too," said Jack, pulling the collar up on his trench coat. 

Michael faced his friends. "Why don't you three find a room and work off some of your frustration, together?" 

Clarissa put her hands on Jack and Sean's shoulders. "I don't think that they're up to the task." 

Derek said, "Michael, if I can separate you from the Lonely Heart's Club, I need some advice." 

"Sure." To the others, Michael said, "I'll catch up with you later. If not, oh well, then I'll see you tomorrow." 

As they walked away, Clarissa said, "I'm telling." 

Michael shook his head and said, "They're not usually that bad┘often they're worse. So, what's going on?"

* * *

Putting on her jacket and winding a scarf around her neck, Karen told Daria, "I'll be back Sunday night." 

Lying on the couch with her notebook computer on her lap, writing, Daria said, "Are you two going to swing by to see Jane's entry tomorrow?" 

"Yes, we'll be there, mother," Karen replied. "Not only to see Jane, but it'll be a good time for Derek to drop off a key with Nell." 

"I see. Without divulging any unnecessary details, what do you two have planned?" 

"We're going to pack and move most of his stuff to his folks' place. Between his car and my truck with a rental trailer, we'll be able to get most of it in one trip on Sunday. And┘a few other things." 

"Well, don't do anything Jane wouldn't do." 

Karen mock-grimaced and said, "I don't even want to try to consider what Jane wouldn't do." 

"I'm sure she's not really as adventurous as she claims." 

"I bet. What are you going to be up to?" 

Daria held up the computer. "It's nice to have time to write again. Michael has some library research he wants to get out of the way tonight, so I'm going to be a slug and stay here." 

"Have fun." 

"You, too. Oh, Karen?" 

"Yes?" 

"Do something┘memorable." 

She nodded and said, "I promise," before stepping out of the door. 

Daria kept her eyes on the closed door for a moment before going back to the computer. She stared at what was written and found that new words failed to appear. She shook her head, saved the file and shut down the notebook. When the process was complete, Daria carried it into her room and placed it in its case before starting to search through a rack of CDs. When she found what she was after, she inserted it into her desktop computer and started her player to hear: 

_"Oh, hi. Sure, I guess I can talk to you. Not like they'd let us corporals know anything important." The following laugh also sounded like her father's. _

Mr. Simon asked, "Well, let's start with your name." 

"Corporal Nathan W. Morgendorffer."

"Meow," Bump softly said before jumping into Daria's lap, seemingly listening. 

_"Cpl. Morgendorffer, tell us a little about yourself." _

"Well┘I┘married my sweetheart, Ruth, right out of high school, and was drafted a little over three years ago. Got two sons. Bruce is two years old, Jacob is eight months."

Daria gently stroked her cat's head. "That's my grandfather." 

Bump gazed up at Daria's face. She leaned over to rest her cheek on the cat's forehead. "I never met him. Did you know any of your grandparents?" 

"Raow," Bump purred and rubbed against Daria. 

_"How are you feeling about going ashore soon?" _

"Scared to death. Don't let them tell you otherwise, most of us are. Except a few of the old timers who'd made through landings like Saipan or Iwo." 

"Any messages to send back home?" 

"Can I say something to my family?" 

"Go ahead, son." 

"Ruth, I love you. I promise to take care of myself and get back to you. Bruce, Jacob, I love you. Damn, I hate being not being able to see them. I miss all of you."

"Grandma and Grandpa must've gone through the same thing Karen and Derek are going through now." 

Daria stopped the recording. "I don't think hearing the rest of that will be a good idea." She scratched the top of Bump's nose. "I expect you to behave around Karen for a while; she doesn't need your usual attitude." 

Bump tilted her head and purred, eyes closed.

* * *

Arms around Daria, Michael looked over her shoulder at the seemingly random, but somehow organic, form of small blocks that swirled around Jane's space and said, "_Fractal Child_; I can see the fractal but┘I'm not seeing the child." 

"You can bet the children at the hospital were somehow involved," Daria said. 

Standing with Jane, Mack said, "You're going to love this┘" 

Animated, Jane waved her hand over the sculpture. "They picked where every block went. I posted a grid every day in the classroom and they marked where they wanted their blocks. The only rule was that it had to touch another block." 

Standing with Derek and holding hands with him, Karen said, "So, how are you going to split an Award of Merit with a roomful of kids?" 

"They get their pictures taken with it for all kinds of freebie publicity, and then the award stays on display at the hospital for a year." 

"Sellout," Daria joked. 

"I decided that I like being a fed artist," Jane said, rubbing her stomach. 

At Nell's station, Daria smirked and said, "_The Coyote's Lucky Day_. I like that, though I'm sure it offended a few." 

Nell sat next to the anvil, partially buried in the ground with two large, pale yellow bird's feet apparently sticking out from under it. She said, "I remember watching the cartoons as a kid. After a while, I really started to root for the coyote. That roadrunner was too damned smug." 

Stepping past Daria and Michael, Derek looked closely at the anvil. "I see the good ol' Acme trademark. Nice." 

"It's the details that'll make the difference," Nell said. 

Karen said, "I still think you should've won something." 

Nell said, "I pissed off a couple sticks in the mud; I'm happy. Besides, I'm still getting exposure, and not just to the cold." 

Jane rubbed her hands together and then put one arm around Mack. "Speaking of cold, want to head out for dinner somewhere┘warm?" 

Nell said, "I'm in." 

Daria and Michael looked at each other and shrugged. Michael said, "Sure." 

Daria asked, "No hamburger sculptures unless it's cooked and served as a meal." 

Jane said, "Hmm, have to try that sometime." 

"Which means that I'll have to eat it," Mack said in mock complaint. 

To Karen and Derek, Jane said, "What about you?" 

"We have plans," Derek explained. "But thanks." 

Jane said, "Okay, you want to go and be all romantic. Don't let me stand in your way."

* * *

Looking out of the restaurant window at the brilliantly lit skyline across the Charles River, Karen joked, "This almost feels like a honeymoon." 

One hand fumbling in his pocket, Derek gulped and said, "Interesting take. Um┘You're trying hard not to show it, but you're really worried about me coming back. I promise that I'm going to keep my helmet on and my head down. I want to come back." 

She reached across the table to his free hand. "I know you will, but I can't help it. Sometimes keeping your head down isn't enough." 

"I know, but somehow, I also know that I will be back. And┘" He pulled a ring tied in blue ribbon from his pocket. "┘That's why I'm doing this. Will you marry me?" 

The slender gold band was set with two small diamonds that shimmered under the table's candlelight. Karen felt as if her heart had stopped while held it up and became lost in thought as she considered what she'd most wished, as well as what she most dreaded. After an agonizing minute for Derek, she said, "On one condition."

* * *

Miriam Adler sat in an armchair in the living room of her central Massachusetts home so that she could watch the driveway through a window. At times, she nervously twirled one of her brunette curls around a finger as she also tried to read the paperback in her lap. Finally, she saw Derek's car pull into the driveway and Karen park her pickup and trailer along the street. Miriam called out, "Tony, Jason, they're here!" 

Hands in pockets, Tony entered from the small den and joined his wife as they waited by the door. Though sporting a pot belly, he was still a muscular man from years working as a welder and metal fabricator. 

A fourteen year-old boy flew down the stairs two and three steps at a time while gliding his hands along the rail. Jason wore a surplus army BDU shirt as he shot past his parents and opened the door. 

Karen and Derek met on the small front lawn and walked hand in hand toward the door. Jason ran out and playfully punched his older brother's arm. "Ready to ship out and kick some major ass?" 

"Jason! Watch your language," Miriam corrected from where she had stepped out onto the porch. 

"I'll kick yours if you don't watch it," Derek warned. 

Running away, Jason taunted, "If you can catch me." 

"Later." Stopping in front of his parents, Derek said, "We have something to tell you. Karen and I are engaged." 

Miriam beamed and hugged Karen. "That's wonderful!" 

"Congratulations, son," Tony told Derek, shaking his hand. 

"It was earlier than I'd planned, but I knew that I would ask her someday," Derek said. 

"It's beautiful," Miriam said, looking at the ring. 

"Thanks," Karen replied. "Though I understand he had a little help in picking it out." 

"I asked Karen's roommate's fiancИ for some advice, since he just did the whole proposal thing a couple months ago," Derek admitted. 

Jason said, "At least I'm too old to be a stupid ring bearer like I was for our cousin's wedding." 

"You don't have furry feet, either," Derek said. 

Miriam asked, "Have you told your parents yet, Karen?' 

"I called them before we left. My mom and dad got to hear the news first and you get to see us first. Things balance out that way." 

Miriam started herding the others indoors. "No need to stand around out here in the cold. Come inside and get warmed up before you start unloading the cars. I'll make some nice hot cocoa for you." 

Karen and Derek giggled at each other and followed Miriam, who asked, "What's so funny about hot cocoa?"

* * *

Preparing to go home, Karen said, "Thanks for dinner. I need to head out if I'm going to get to bed at a decent hour." 

Tony said, "Drive careful." 

Miriam said, "Good night, Karen. We'll be thinking about you." 

"Good night." Karen, followed by Derek, waved and stepped outside, closing her coat against the chill wind. She stopped by her truck and turned. "Glad I was able to drop off the trailer here in town instead of taking it back to Boston empty." 

Derek held her and said, "I love you." 

"I love you. I'm sorry I have to run, but I have class tomorrow. I hope you enjoy staying with your family tonight." 

"I will. And I'll try to calm Jason down a bit, but, he's still a kid and doesn't realize how dangerous his big brother's adventure will be." 

"I'm sorry that his excitement bothers me, but I can't help it. Thanks." 

"I'll see you tomorrow when you pick me up." 

Karen reached up and cupped his face before kissing him. "Good night." 

He returned the kiss. "Good night."

* * *

"I'm back," Karen said. She closed the apartment door and hung her coat on the rack. "Can you guys come out here for a minute?" 

"What's up?" Jane said, wiping paint from her hands as she came from her room. 

Daria appeared a moment later. "Well, did you do anything memorable?" 

Karen held out her hand to show the ring. "I think so." 

Caught by surprise, Daria croaked out, "Okay, that's memorable." 

"Cool." Jane then sarcastically asked, "Did Michael rub off on Derek or something?" 

Without a pause, Karen said, "You know, these things can be contagious." 

As Karen and Daria looked at Jane, she stepped back while waving her arms. "Oh, no┘no, no you don't. Mack and I are very happy with the way things are. You don't need to go there┘don't go there at all." 

"Nervous?" Daria asked. 

"No!" Jane said. "Yes┘when you two start looking like that, things happen." 

"Don't worry," Karen said. "It's not like we're going to strong-arm Mike or anything." 

"No, you just set bad good examples." 

Karen said, "Look, I won't be around this week to set any examples. I'm going to grab some stuff tomorrow morning and stay at what's left of his place. I want to spend as much time with Derek as I can. Besides, he's leaving his car with his parents, so he'll need a ride Friday."

* * *

Early Friday morning, the alarm drew Karen's stomach into an icy knot. She rolled over in the sleeping bag and tightly held onto Derek. She whispered, "I didn't want this week to end so fast." 

He tapped the snooze button on the alarm and then pulled her arms closer before saying, "Me either. Even if we've been living off of the floor in an empty apartment┘it's been great." 

"Let's stay here another couple of minutes." 

He half-rolled and embraced her. "I wish it could be hours."

* * *

In a fresh uniform with a duffle bag over his shoulder, Derek shivered as the cold Cape Cod wind worked its way to his skin. He held Karen close as she cried on his shoulder. Tears trying to flow from his eyes, he rested his cheek against her head and said, "I love you, Karen." Around them in a parking lot of Camp Edwards' headquarters, variations of the same scene were repeated by other soldiers and their loved ones. 

Sniffing, she said, "I love you," as she gently pushed herself back. Wiping her eyes, she said, "I can't make it through a long good-bye." 

Derek held both of her hands and kissed her. "We'll make up for it with a long hello when I get back." 

She nodded and whispered, "Okay." 

"You take care of yourself, too. Promise?" 

"I promise." 

After a long, last kiss, he said, "I love you." 

Her hand lingered in the air as he stepped back. "I love you." 

The young couple watched each other as if memorizing how the other looked, and then they turned and parted. Self-conscious, Derek blinked his eyes and rubbed his hands over them before entering the building. Immediately inside, he turned, came to attention and saluted the lieutenant waiting at a desk, saying, "Private Adler, Derek A. Reporting for duty, sir." 

Karen climbed inside her pickup, grateful to get out of the wind. She leaned forward against the steering wheel and let out a sob. Blinking and wiping her face with the end of her scarf, Karen said, "Keep it together, girl. You're his anchor to home."

* * *

Red-eyed, drained and emotionally exhausted, Karen missed the rack when she tried to hang her coat after returning home that evening. Not bothering to pick it up, she went to the sofa and dropped onto it, staring at the window. 

Hearing someone, Jane stepped out of her room and picked up a package waiting on the dining table to carry over to Karen. "This was in the mail for you." 

Listless, Karen looked at the return address. "From Grandma?" 

Using her pen knife, Karen cut the binding strings and opened the package. She gasped and removed a small white flag, red-bordered with a single blue star in the center. The fabric was yellowed and the edge slightly frayed. "Oh, my God." 

Jane scratched her head. "I give, what is it?" 

"It's the serviceman's flag Grandma had for Grandpa when he was overseas in B-17s. These were hung in the window to show how many loved ones were in harm's way."

* * *

Returning home from shopping, Mrs. Lyndon noticed something different in one of her tenant's windows and took a closer look. She remembered the flag in the window for her older brothers, her eternal gratitude that they came home, and that Karen's gentleman was in the military. "Dear God, please protect him."

* * *

Thanks to Louise Lobinske, Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading. 

June 2007   



	10. California Roll

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.   
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2007. 

This is the fifty-eighth story in the Falling into College series. 

Richard Lobinske

**California Roll**

Each carrying suitcases and dressed for a day in the sun, Tammy and Grace stopped at the door of their sorority house suite and Grace said, "Last chance; Tijuana is going to be fun, and the boys on the beaches down there┘yum." 

"I know Spanish, so I can translate for you," Tammy said. "After two years of high school and a year of college, I think I can do more than ask for directions to the bathroom and order a beer." 

"Thanks guys, but I'm going to stay here," Quinn said. "Now that I have a job, I can't just take off for Spring Break." 

"Tijuana, been there, done that," Fran said. "Though without the tequila, since I was there with my aunt and uncle." 

"Don't worry, we'll still find plenty to do," Quinn said. 

Tammy said, "Okay, but we'll take pictures so you know what you missed." 

"Make sure you have your clothes on, okay?" Fran added just as Tammy closed the door. After a couple seconds, she said, "Okay, Quinn, what are you up to? I know you don't drink, but the rest of what they planned sounds like something you'd enjoy. Don't give me that work crap; you have your boss wrapped around your finger." 

Quinn admitted, "I know, I just had other plans." 

"Oh┘plans. They must be real good." 

"Um┘you remember that guy I met on the plane when I went home for Christmas?" 

Fran sat up straight. "You blew off a trip to the Baja beaches for one guy?" 

Suddenly nervous, Quinn said, "That does sound a little weird, doesn't it?" 

"Considering you met him once, three months ago, yes. You're interested in him." 

"Well, he is interesting." 

"That's not what I meant and you know it. You're getting romantic ideas about him." 

"No. It's just that we've been too busy to get together and I said we would." 

"Uh-huh, and you've been in regular e-mail contact. Do you want to borrow some of my cheesy romances?" 

"No," Quinn said with emphasis. "It's just a date or two." 

"Or two? You're thinking about a second date before you've gone on the first. This gets better all the time." 

"Are you going to visit your aunt and uncle?" Quinn said, trying to change the subject. 

Fran couldn't resist a friendly smirk. "I think I'll pass and stay around here to watch the fun." 

"You're as bad as my sister, only in a totally different way."

* * *

**Greetings from Camp Raptor, **

Karen, we've arrived and I must say that this is the most God-forsaken piece of real estate imaginable. Dry, cold and isolated with mountains all around. Everyone is staying in squad tents until better billets can be set up. There are a couple of real buildings, all that's left of a small village. One bit of good news is that my promotion to Pfc went through. Can't write for long, there are only a couple of laptops and we only get five minutes each to send email. I'm thinking of you always and miss you. 

Love, Derek. 

"Be careful," Karen whispered. She reached over and gently touched a framed photo of herself and Derek that had been taken the week before he left. She wiped a tear from her eye and said, "I miss you, too." 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud groan. Karen turned around and saw Jane stagger from her room. 

One eye barely open and holding her head in pain, Jane slowly made her way toward the kitchen. "Daria, tell your furball not to eat so loudly." 

Bump looked up from her Sunday morning mahi-mahi fillet and meowed. 

"Ah! She did that on purpose," Jane said, clearly in agony. 

Pouring a cup of coffee, Daria thoughtfully kept her voice down as she said, "You're the one who wanted to celebrate your twenty-first birthday with a bottle." 

"Daria, I wouldn't feel like this if it was only one bottle." 

Daria pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water before offering it to Jane. "Either way, it's still not the cat's fault. Here, drink this." 

"Will it help?" 

"Maybe; if not, it'll keep you busy for a while." 

"I'd rather have coffee." 

"Rehydrate first, then caffeine." 

Jane drank deeply. "Mmm, water good." 

Daria sipped from her coffee before setting it back down on the counter. She then took a box of cereal from an open shelf and poured some into a bowl. "I hope Nell doesn't get into too much trouble with her landlord for hosting the party." 

Both hands huddled around her glass, Jane said, "I'll call later. CC said she was staying to help pick things up." 

Daria went to the refrigerator for a bottle of milk. "If anyone knows how to clean up after college students, she does. BFAC doesn't pay her enough." 

Holding onto the door frame, Mack said, "I smell coffee." 

Daria poured a glass of water and gave it to him. "Water, then coffee." 

He accepted and said, "Do you have a spare bottle of aspirin?" 

Daria shook her head at her hung-over friends. "I would've left you over there, but I don't have a grudge against Nell." 

Jane asked, "How did you get us back here?" 

"Michael pushing and Karen pulling on a horse lead." 

"You're kidding," Mack said. 

Karen lifted the leather lead from one of the dining set chair backs. 

"Do you prefer 5 by 7 or 8 by 10 glossies?" Daria asked. She picked up her bowl of cereal and stepped past Mike. "I'll let you two discuss what you may or may not remember of the evening while I eat breakfast." 

"If those show up on the Internet┘" Mack said to Jane. 

"Don't worry," she replied. "Daria will milk plenty of blackmail from us before that ever happens." 

"Oh, now that was encouraging." 

Jane fumbled on the shelf over the coffee pot to bring down a pair of mugs. She filled each and handed one to Mack. "Drink up. I want to get in a practice run today. The marathon's only a few weeks away." 

"You can't be serious," Mack said, knowing his stomach wouldn't tolerate the exercise. 

"Running always makes me feel better." 

"Even for hangovers?" 

"Um, I don't know, but there's only one way to find out." 

Karen joined Daria at the table. "You're leaving me alone with those two?" 

"Sorry, but Michael's trip to Bromwell only includes one room with one bed." 

"I'll sleep on a couch." 

"Bromwell people get a little bent out of shape over things like that, sorry. Don't worry, Jane's in training mode, so you know her mind will be somewhere else most of the week." 

"Do you think you'll run into your old boyfriend?" 

"There are a couple thousand students on campus and I won't be looking for him, so the odds are rather low." 

Karen nodded. "Okay, so you expect life to throw you another one and he'll show up." 

"I hate it when you do that."

* * *

Perched on a stool, Fran leaned against the bar of Pacific Coast Smoothie and waved to the waiter, saying, "Another Raspberry Supershooter, please." 

"Coming right up, Fran," the curly-haired young man said as he started to collect the ingredients. 

Also at the bar, Quinn asked, "Why don't you just order two at the start?" 

"Because, the second one always starts to melt and get mushy. Besides, it looks weird to have two smoothies at the same time. You're one to talk, Miss 'tiny slice of lemon, please.'" 

Quinn sipped from her drink. "_TouchИ._" 

Fran looked out at the sunlit street outside filled with cafИs, small boutiques and other businesses that depend upon commerce from Pepperhill students. The crowd was thin when compared to the usual while classes were in session. "Quinn, can I ask you something?" 

"Sure, what's up?" 

"How would you feel if your parents had another kid?" 

"It's not something that's gonna happen since Mom went through menopause." 

"What about before? What would you have thought?" 

Wondering what her friend was up to, Quinn said, "I probably would've freaked out back in high school." 

"Here you go," the waiter said, placing the fresh drink next to Fran. 

She smiled and said, "Thanks." 

Quinn asked, "Why do you ask?" 

Fran took a long drink from her glass. "Aunt Beth was hinting that she and Uncle David were thinking about it." 

"Aren't they a little old?" 

"They're only thirty-five," Fran said. "I think they feel a little short-changed since I was with them for only eight years." 

"When I think about it, Mom and Dad were thirty-one and thirty-two when I was born." Quinn turned her stool to face Fran. "How do you feel about it?" 

"Weird. Kind of like they want to start a new life┘without me." 

Quinn mentally filled in the blanks about her friend's concerns. "I know that they won't forget you." 

"I'm sure you're right. I guess it's a little leftover fear of losing them." 

Quinn giggled and said, "Mom and Dad barely survived me and my sister. I don't even want to think about what a third child would've done to them." 

That caused Fran to join the laugh. "I guess my aunt and uncle are a couple of masochists. I used to joke with them that I arrived housebroken. Maybe they want the whole childrearing experience, including diapers." 

"Diapers? Eww. Fran, can we change the subject now?"

* * *

Daria gritted her teeth and banged her head against the side window of Michael's car as he drove along the interstate. In her lap was a stack of student papers from her intern teaching. "What madness overwhelmed me to think teaching would be a good second major?" 

Attempting to be helpful, he said, "You're good at it?" 

"I can't tell by these essays. I think I'm beginning to understand what happened to Mr. DeMartino." 

"That was the teacher with the eye, right?" 

"Yes." 

"Are they really that bad?" 

Daria shook her head. "No, not all of them, but too many are bad." 

"Are they getting better?" 

"I think so." 

"Then you are good at it." 

"But some of these are still painful to read. As much as some of it was bloated beyond belief, I miss reading stuff at the U Press." 

"I'm sorry you haven't been able to find a new job." 

Daria tried to cheer herself. "Hey, I've had time to write and submit two short stories." 

"Another plus." 

Looking up to reply, Daria noticed how closely they were following the car in front of them. She reflexively grabbed the overhead handle and said, "Um┘could you back off from that car?" 

"Oops, sorry," he said, easing off of the gas until the distance between cars had widened. 

Daria said, "Some things really don't rub off from parent to child." 

Michael replied, "Hey, I learned to drive from Dad." 

"Okay, but I don't have your mom's nerves." 

"You haven't killed me and she didn't, so things look a bit even from this direction." 

"She held off killing you for a lot longer than I have." 

"I think I better stop while I'm behind."

* * *

A dusty, red VW Beetle rolled through the quiet campus of Pepperhill with its blond-haired driver alternately looking around through wraparound sunglasses and consulting a small map. Quinn Gilstad grumbled, "God, what kind of drunken idiot do they find to lay out college campuses?" 

Lost, he tossed the map into the back of the car and pulled up next to a skateboarder on the sidewalk. He leaned across the car, rolled down the window and called, "Excuse me." 

The boarder spun his board into a turn and dropped the back edge to bring it to a stop. "Dude, what's up?" 

"Where's the Theta-Theta-Theta house?" 

"Man, you gotta turn around and go past the volleyball field. Hang the first right, that's Sorority Row. The Tri-Theta's are like the fourth one on the left." 

"Thanks." 

"Gotta date?" 

"Something like that." 

"If she's a Tri-Theta, don't piss her off. Those chicks stick together." 

"I'll remember that." 

The boarder waved and pushed off, yelling, "Good luck, dude," as he rolled away. 

Quinn made a U-turn and followed the directions, eventually pulling into the guest parking of the sorority house. He stepped out and gazed at the tall front columns. "Wow, Tara." He then shrugged and jogged to the entrance and stepped inside, lifting his sunglasses at the same time. 

In the large entry foyer, Quinn Morgendorffer sat on one of the overstuffed sofas while waiting. Seeing the young man enter, she poked Fran and said, "There he is." 

She appraised him and said, "Up to your usual standards, though that looks more like a work tan than a beach tan and his clothes are a little below par." 

Quinn stood and waved. "Quinn, over here." 

He swerved and marched to them as Fran stood up. She said, "You know, this name business is going to get confusing real quick. Hey, do you have a middle name I can use?" 

"I hate it," he said. 

The red-headed woman said, "Don't even try it, Fran." 

Fran thought for a moment and then said to him, "I've called her Quinn for a while now, so I'm used to it. How about if I call you Q?" 

"If it was good enough for an Ian Fleming character, it's good enough for me."

* * *

Daria read the bumper sticker on the back of Michael's car, "'Indiana Jones was a grave robber.' I'm sure it'll be popular with Bromwell's archeology department, but I'd still keep it away from the movie fanboys." 

"Eh, they're old movies and there aren't that many fans left in the wild." 

"Unless there's another sequel."   
"I wouldn't hold my breath." Michael added, "Let's go find where we're staying." 

"Probably better than most hotels you've stayed in," Daria said. "I visited here┘just about three years ago. It doesn't look like a leaf has moved." 

"You stayed at the guest apartments?" 

"No, I was with Tom and his mother. We stayed at the Royal Ambassador Inn down the road. The suites were larger than my apartment and we each had one to ourselves." 

Michael asked, "Parental paranoia?" 

"Mrs. Sloane slept in the middle one." 

Carrying a suitcase each, they walked across one corner of campus feeling slightly out of place. It was a subtle difference in the way the students looked and held themselves: more confident, but a little colder. Daria squeezed Michael's hand and again felt that Bromwell's rejection was the better outcome for her. 

Michael looked at the campus map, pointed and said, "Over there." 

"Good. This thing is getting heavy." 

"This is a nice-looking campus. Almost spotless." 

"With how much they charge for tuition, I should hope that they can find space in the budget for upkeep." 

At the guest house, Michael said to the student attendant behind the front desk, "Hello, Prof. Daniels reserved a room for me. My name is Michael Fulton." 

The attendant checked a wide reservation book and said, "Right here, Mr. Fulton and one guest. Please sign in." As Michael signed the register, the attendant ran a pair of key cards through a reader and separately presented them to Michael and Daria. "You'll be in room 104, just down the hall to your right. Once you've settled, you can find a light supper at the Grandtleigh CafИ or a full menu at the Franklin Dining Hall." 

"Supper might be a good idea," Michael said in agreement. "What do you think, Daria?" 

"After we drop off our luggage, it sounds like a plan." 

The room was only a short distance down the hall. It was comfortably appointed in the genteel, traditional colonial style that permeated Bromwell, with a window that looked out over the carefully manicured, though still winter brown, grounds. Michael said, "Okay, it's a little bigger than a dorm room. After everything else, I guess I was expecting more." 

Daria dropped her suitcase on a low table. "Why do you think Mrs. Sloane took us to a hotel?" 

"Still, it's not bad," he said, setting his suitcase down. 

"Especially since you're not paying for it." 

"Although, it would've been nice to stay at the bed and breakfast like last year." 

Daria slipped her arms around his waist and said, "I still think about that week," as she rested her head on his chest. 

He very softly held her and stroked her hair. "I'd like to think our honeymoon will at least be like that." 

She whispered, "You're not really in a hurry to go out for dinner, are you?"

* * *

Seeing Quinn pause after stepping out of his car, Q asked, "Do you have a problem with sushi?" 

"It's safe to eat, right?" she asked, remembering her father's experience with Tokyo Toby's. 

"I'm sure the health department would shut them down if it wasn't," he joked. 

"Are you sure you can't get worms and stuff?" 

"I suppose, if you have a dishonest place that doesn't do things right. But then, you can get food poisoning from any kind of restaurant. If you're nervous, get something that's not so exotic, like a California roll. It's cucumber, avocado and imitation crab wrapped in _nori_ and rice. It's a good starter." 

"That doesn't sound too bad. Do they have a diet version?" 

"No, but it's pretty low fat anyway." 

"Oh." 

"You've really never had sushi?" 

"There wasn't any where I used to live in Texas, and if there was, they would probably put barbeque sauce on it." 

Q chuckled and said, "Good one." 

"And the one sushi place in Lawndale, well, my dad did get a wormy thing in his throat. It was very traumatic┘and really, eww." 

"Go with the California roll. The imitation crab is cooked during processing, so there's no chance of parasites. There are usually some vegetarian choices, too." 

"Promise?" 

"I promise."

* * *

Inexperienced with chopsticks, Quinn slowly grasped a section of roll. "It made so much sense, I worked out this kind of dual major thingy between marketing and professional makeup." 

Enjoying his _maguro_, or tuna, Q said, "That's an amazingly creative mix, and a great way to address a situation that nobody really thinks about." 

"I guess I needed the right inspiration. Fran's been a really good friend that way." 

"You two are pretty close, aren't you? You get along with her a lot better than I did with any of my undergrad roommates." 

"Bad?" 

"Not really, they were just there. But you two seem like you'll really stand up for each other." 

Quinn smirked, "We do." 

"Heh, a guy that I asked directions from┘" 

"You asked for directions? Wow." 

"Yes, I asked for directions, I was lost. Anyway, when he heard I was looking for the Tri-Theta house, he said something about not getting you mad and that Tri-Thetas stick together. That reminded me of this kind of urban legend I heard about involving Tri-Theta." 

"Oh?" 

"Something about them pulling off that whole _Lysistrata_ thing on an entire campus because some guy was a jerk to one of them." 

Quinn slyly smiled and daintily took a small drink from her cup of green tea. "That's not an urban legend, though technically, Fran wasn't a member at the time and I was only a pledge." 

"Wait a minute. That was you and Fran?" 

Playful, Quinn said, "Yes." 

"And you did it at Pepperhill?" 

"Yes." 

"Damn, I'm impressed." 

"Thank you." 

"If I'm going to hang around, I better learn not to make you angry." 

Inwardly surprised at how hopeful she felt, Quinn asked, "You want to hang around?" 

"Yeah. Someone smart and gutsy enough to pull that off is someone I want to know better. You have to tell me everything about it."

* * *

Q walked Quinn back to the Tri-Theta house and said, "I'm sorry about the movie. I'd heard that it was supposed to be good." 

Quinn squeezed his hand. "Don't worry; I've sat through a lot worse. Besides, I had fun." 

"In that case, how about dinner Wednesday night?" 

"Pick me up at seven o'clock?" 

He held her hand with both of his. "I'll see you then. Good-bye, for now." 

"Good-bye." 

He waved and went to his car as she entered the building. He climbed in and fastened his belt. It dawned on him that they didn't even try to kiss during their date, and that it seemed right. "I like that."

* * *

Reading a story on her favorite Buffy fan site, Fran made a face and said, "Eww, that's bad. That's really bad. There should be a law against shipping those two. And damn, do some spell checking, dude." 

She continued reading before hitting another section that made her sit back in her chair. "Goths are nothing like that. Sheesh, get a clue." 

When she heard the door close, Fran logged off and stepped out of her room to the hallway. She saw Quinn and asked, "So, how did the test drive of the new boyfriend go?" 

"Quinn's not my boyfriend, but we had a good time. We had sushi for lunch┘" 

"Wait a minute. Sushi? We've been trying all year to get you to try sushi and he convinces you on the first date?" 

"He was convincing." 

"And what else did he convince you to do?" Fran said with a raised eyebrow and a faux leer. 

"Fran!" Quinn said in surprise. 

"Just checking. You never know how smooth these older guys can be." 

"Only three years older." 

Knowing her friend and thoroughly enjoying the conversation, Fran said, "He's a grad student, which means he's halfway over to the dark side." 

"He's really nice and smart." 

"I bet he's one of those teaching assistants that torture undergrads before breakfast." 

Still on the defense, Quinn said, "He hasn't done any teaching, yet." 

"He sticks pins in bugs┘wait a minute, maybe that's not such a bad thing. Okay, let's change tracks: what kind of goodie did he buy for you?" 

"Nothing, we had lunch, saw a movie and talked about stuff." 

"Talked? What kind of stuff?" 

"Our majors, our plans for the future, what kind of silly professors we've had. He was actually impressed by what I'm trying to do with my majors." 

"Okay┘now, how much did he run around doing stuff for you?" 

"He didn't. We just had a nice day together. Fran, what's gotten into you?" 

"Quinn, he's not acting like your other dates and you're defending him. It's cute." 

"He's not my boyfriend." 

"But you wouldn't complain if he was." 

Quinn shook her head and started to go to her room. "Fran┘" 

Dropping her amusement and becoming serious, Fran stepped in front of Quinn. "I'm your friend and I think I need to ask you something." 

Taken aback by Fran's change in mood, Quinn stopped and asked, "What?" 

"Are you scared?" 

"Scared of what?" 

"A real relationship with a guy." 

"What do you mean? I'm always going out." 

"Yeah, you date guys, you accept gifts and you can get almost any one of them to do things for you. But, you don't have relationships with any of them." 

"Yes, I do." 

Fran pressed. "No, you don't. You have fun, you dance, you see movies. But, you don't let any of them get close to you┘except Q." Her eyes flashed in realization. "And you don't know what to do." 

Quinn forced a laugh. "Oh Fran, please. I don't know what to do with a boy?" 

Fran crossed her arms. "This time, I don't think so. I have another question. How much did he comment about your looks?" 

"He, um, uh┘he said I looked nice." 

"But he talked about your majors and, let me guess, how challenging they are." 

"Yeah." 

"That's what happened; don't you get it?" 

"Get what?" 

"He saw that you're not just drop-dead cute, but that you have a brain." 

Quinn stepped past and tried to brush off the comment, "You make me sound like a mirror image of my sister." 

Fran watched for a second and then turned back to her room. She shook her long, black hair, smiled and quietly stated, "You said it, not me."

* * *

**Dear Derek, **

I'm spending spring break working full-time at the zoo and getting a lot of good experience with the staff vet. Everyone else is off doing their own thing, too. Jane's practicing for the Boston Marathon again, and Mike's here this week to help. Daria's gone down to New Jersey with Michael to visit Bromwell and the bigwig archeologist he started working for. My brother sent a new video of my nephew, the little guy's really learned to get around now. 

I hope you get better quarters soon and my prayers are with you. 

Love, Karen.   
Derek smiled and saved the e-mail. He wondered how soldiers of years before held on while waiting for physical mail to arrive from home. 

"Adler!" a voice boomed behind him. 

Derek turned to see his squad leader. "Yes, Sergeant?" 

"How's the shoulder?" 

He rotated his stiff, left shoulder and made a face. "Hurts like hell and the bruise is turning all kinds of colors." 

"I've scrounged up some new body armor for you. I know a lot of soldiers get spooked at wearing something that's already stopped a bullet." 

"Thanks, Sarge, but I'll keep mine. It feels lucky." 

"Your call, soldier." 

After the sergeant walked away, Derek clicked "reply" and typed. 

**Karen, **

Thanks for the news, it means a lot to hear about even the little things. We had our first patrol today and it really sunk in that this is all for real and hearing bullets is just as scary as you imagined. Everyone in the platoon came back safe, and we hope that will continue. Take care of yourself and remember that every night, I look forward to seeing you again. 

Love,   
Derek   
Karen touched the screen of her monitor and whispered, "You can't fool me. I can tell you had a close call. Please be careful; I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

* * *

Prof. Daniels' lab was smaller than what Michael had expected, but the smooth, hand-finished plaster walls and wood accents gave the room itself a feeling of history. The walls were filled with shelves and cabinets holding a vast array of books, papers and equipment for cleaning and examining archeological finds. Michael sat at a bench examining site plans for several of the upgrade/repair sites along Boston's Freedom Trail and referencing them to published finds from the same areas. 

The white-haired professor looked over his shoulder and said, "Good work. You have a good eye for matching the reports with the plan." 

"Thanks, I've had a lot of practice reading maps for surveying with my dad." 

The professor looked over the plans before pointing to a mark Michael had made on a site plan. "What's this?" 

"Rough location of new recycling bins. The Park Service put them in about three months ago." 

"Good memory." 

Michael said, "Trust me; I've picked up trash along the entire trail and know every trash can and recycle bin. It's just something I remembered." 

The professor let out a good-natured snort. "We have some brilliant students in the department, but like many Bromwell students, none of them have that kind of practical, real work experience. You may have been picking up trash, but you learned the area and you have a good eye for details and location. I don't think some of our undergrads can make it across campus without a GPS unit." 

"I'm sure they're not that bad."   
Prof. Daniels crossed the room to a coffee pot placed on a desk. "Never underestimate the inability of a freshman class." 

"My fiancИe would like that quote." 

"Oh yes, I hope your young lady is comfortable with our accommodations." 

"She is, and Daria's spending today at the library. She'll be busy for hours."

* * *

"Just a minute!" CC called to whoever had knocked on her door. Balancing a sheet of gold leaf on a soft brush, she held her breath while gently lowering it onto a sheet of vellum. Once it had caught on the size, she tamped the leaf down with the brush and released her breath. The blue-haired girl pushed her glasses up, rose, went to the door and said out of habit, "How can I help you?" 

Karen said, "Spare a few minutes to talk?" 

"Yeah, yeah, come on in. I was afraid you were one of the dorm beasts complaining about something broken." CC gestured for Karen to have a seat. "So, what's on your mind?" 

Karen accepted and said, "Derek arrived in Afghanistan and he's┘things are already happening." 

Sitting on her bed, CC said, "Let's hear it for modern communication, but all in all, I suppose it's better than the waiting, without knowing, like it was before." 

"That would drive me crazy. I don't know how my grandmother could stand it." 

"Don't think I'm trying to push you off, but she would probably be somebody who understands what you're going through." 

"Actually, I have talked to Grandma. She's a lot tougher than I think I'll ever be." 

"I grew up around army brats and wives. You're tougher than you think." 

"I wish I had your confidence. I'm scared to death for him." 

"You're scared because you care for Derek. You're tough because you're facing the fear instead of pretending it's not there or running away."

* * *

Walking down the marble steps of the building, Daria said, "I'll admit that this library is one thing I regret about not going to Bromwell." 

"Book junkie," Michael said, teasing. "It's like a crack house for you." 

"Like you can talk, history boy." 

"Got me. I'm starting to get hungry. Why don't we wander around and see what Newtown has to offer for food?" 

Daria nodded. "Yeah, I am, too. How about Chinese? Something of the non-buffet variety." 

"We have a goal." 

They walked across the campus to the visitor parking lot. Daria asked, "How was your day?" 

"We made a lot of progress today. At the rate we're going, things should be tied up tomorrow. How was yours?" 

"I wish we could transplant the library. Not to say that Raft's is bad or anything, but Bromwell's is just in a whole different league of funding." 

"Must be all of those rich legacies. I swear that every building and wing around here is named for a donor." 

"They are, and I got to hear about each one of them during my infamous tour."

* * *

Joining the line to be seated at a cozy-looking place not far from Bromwell, Daria said, "With a line like this, the food must be good, or cheap." 

At the front of the line, Tom Sloane turned around at the sound of her voice. "Daria?" 

"Oh, God," Daria said under her breath. Conversationally, she said, "Hi, Tom. This is a surprise." 

"I'll say it is," he replied. "Hello, Michael. What brings you two to Newtown?" 

Michael said, "I'm working on a project with Prof. Daniels of the archeology department." 

An attractive redhead with Tom said, "That's the girl your mother keeps going on about?" 

Faintly embarrassed, he said to her, "Yes, she is. Jessica, this is Daria and her fiancИ, Michael. Daria, Michael, this is my girlfriend, Jessica. Now that we've been introduced, are there any objections to us getting a table together, and um, clearing the air?" 

"Awkwardness for all concerned? Why not?" Daria said. 

"What's a few skeletons in the closet?" Michael said. 

Daria nudged him and said, "You're off the job, so no skeletons." 

Accepting the consensus, Jessica said, "I'm in." 

Tom motioned Daria and Michael forward and said to the hostess, "Correction, party of four, please." 

The matronly oriental woman selected two more menus from a rack and said, "Follow me, please," and led them to a table for four. She placed the menus at each setting and said, "Your server will be with you shortly. I hope you enjoy your meal." 

After the hostess left, Daria said, "Tom, how did you find out that we were engaged?" 

Tom chuckled. "Pretty easy. Mom read the engagement announcement that Helen put in the Lawndale newspaper and then made sure that I was informed in short order." 

"Of course; I should've guessed. Kay never misses a detail about social events," Daria said. 

Jessica said, "No, she doesn't. That's what I don't get. From what Tom's told me, you were never much for social events, but you're the ex-girlfriend that Kay keeps comparing everyone to. How did you do that?" 

Daria shrugged and said, "I┘have no idea."

* * *

The two couples continued conversing over dinner. Daria was inwardly amused and slightly surprised at Jessica, a jaded daughter of wealth who was, in many ways, much like Tom. Daria said, "At Amy's wedding, Kay had a few choice words about some of the people Tom had dated." 

Jessica said, "Oh, yes. Kay told us about your aunt's wedding in excruciating detail, including your dress, Daria." 

"Not something I ever really pictured you wearing," Tom said. Noticing Michael clear his throat and rub his eyes in reaction, he added, "One of the reasons things didn't work between Daria and me. To be honest, I didn't have the romantic streak she needed and you have." 

Defending herself, Daria said, "It's not like I go out of my way to wear that kind of stuff. I much prefer comfort to fashion." 

"But when you dress up for those rare special occasions, you're beautiful," Michael said. 

Jessica smirked at Daria's warm response to Michael and explained, "Growing up, my parents poured me into these cute, overpriced dresses and paraded me in front of their friends at every social event on the calendar. I learned that 'beautiful' is a polite, programmed response that only acknowledges a girl's existence. You could trot out a pig in a tutu and if they thought it was someone's daughter, those society elders and their horny offspring would say it looked beautiful. And then all of those stuck-up boys would try to get my attention with every cheap romance trick in the book. God, I hated those dresses and hated those attitudes and I'm glad I found someone who hates them just as much as I do." 

"No offense intended, I can see where Tom would appreciate your attitude," Daria said. "Tom, am I right that you thought I, and come to think of it, Jane, were like that?" 

"Umm┘yeah." 

Daria slowly nodded her head. "I was right; we were from different worlds. Jane and I were close, in our different ways, but it sounds like someone like Jessica was who you were looking for. Jessica, I grew up with a cute sister that I felt I could never compete against, appearance wise, so I stopped trying. However, deep inside, I secretly wanted someone to see through the hard shell I put forward. Someone finally did. Jessica, you grew up hearing people say you were beautiful so often, that it became meaningless and all the empty posturing made you distrust most romance. Tom, with his background, was finally someone who could understand, right?" 

Jessica agreed, saying, "Pretty close. But, it still doesn't explain why Kay keeps comparing me to you." 

Tom dropped his head on the table as he connected the information in his head. "Mom saw through to Daria and wanted me to see it, too." 

"So, she holds it against me," Jessica said. 

Tom said, "Mom's a romantic and I'm not. I bet she thought Daria would bring that out in me." 

"She has the effect," Michael said. 

"If you give Daria the chance," Tom said. "You did and I didn't." 

Shaking her head, Jessica said, "Meanwhile, Kay just doesn't get that I'm attracted to Tom for that very reason." 

Daria asked, "Jessica, have you met Tom's sister, Elsie?" 

Jessica chuckled at the name. "At Christmas. Heh, she's driving Kay and Angier crazy with her plans for the family business. What does she have to do with it?" 

"Her experience was a lot like yours and she's also breaking out of the traditional Sloane role in a way Kay doesn't want," Daria took a breath to settle her nerves. "I have to admit that if Tom had been more of a romantic, I could've been vulnerable to the things you and Elsie have rejected, and I bet Kay saw that." 

"Even so, you still would've shaken things up; just look at the influence you had on Elsie," Michael said, feeling a little weird about the direction of the conversation. 

Tom said, "You know, Mom hasn't really been as upset with Elsie as you'd expect. She doesn't entirely agree with Elsie's methods, but I think she's quietly encouraging my sister to shake things up. I bet she thought you'd do the same." 

Jessica said, "I bet. Daria, if you don't mind, I just realized that Kay must see you as a safer kind of girl to break the Sloane mold." 

"I agree," Daria said. "And, that would've caused problems in the long run. I'm not completely the woman Kay thinks I am. You don't need her guidance to survive high society politics like I would've, because of my inexperience. Jessica, I think that makes you a better match for Tom than me." 

Jessica pondered for a second, and then said, "Because Kay's a romantic, I bet she sees your romantic streak as something that would've made Tom happier." 

"You'll just have to prove Mrs. Sloane wrong," Michael said, "and show that you two can be happy the way you are." 

Jessica gave Tom a sly smile. "That sounds like a challenge I can accept."

* * *

The restaurant was a small, cozy place with simple dИcor and fresh, tasteful meals. After their meal, Quinn and Q were seated at a table for two, next to a window overlooking a Malibu side street. One candle within a clear, hand-blown globe lit the table, casting a glow on the face of each. Quinn waited with trepidation to hear Q's response to hearing about her days in the Fashion Club. 

He said, "I know you didn't get into Pepperhill by being a just a fashionista, though I'm sure you made anything look good. You can tell me; did you win any awards in high school?" 

"Actually┘I won the academic award for the school's honor society for graduating seniors. It's kind of funny, but that was the second year of the awards. My sister won the academic award for the first year. A lot of people were surprised when I won." 

"Brains and beauty are a tempting combination. You and your sister must've made an imposing pair back then." 

"We, um, didn't exactly work together in high school. The whole sisterly rivalry thing, but we get along better, now." 

"Ah, I get it. You started getting along once you weren't living in the same house." 

"Yeah, too bad we're on opposite sides of the country." 

Their waitress stopped at the table and held a small folder with the bill. "Your check." 

Quinn placed her purse on the table and took out her credit card, handing it to the waitress while saying to Q, "Let me get this one." 

Across the table, Q smiled and said, "As a grad student, I'm obligated to accept when someone else pays for food." 

Quinn giggled and said, "That's funny." 

"It's a universal, unwritten code. It's also a good way to get us to show up for seminars."

* * *

After dinner, Quinn and Q took a barefoot stroll along the beach. Holding Q's hand as they walked, Quinn said, "Can I ask you something?" 

"Sure." 

"Hmm, how do I say this? I, uh, I know that I'm cute and stuff and, I, oh, this sounds bad┘since guys always see that I'm cute, I've used it to get them to do things for me. You're different. How?" 

"We're in southern California. Cute girls are a dime a dozen and too many of them have some teenage dream of being an actress or a model or just marrying some rich guy. Quinn, you're pretty, but you're also smart and you have a real plan for your life. When a guy grows up and stops looking for arm candy, that's damn attractive." 

Quinn stopped him, placed her hands on his cheeks and gave him a kiss. 

Q slowly put his arms around her waist. "I must've said something right." 

"You did."

* * *

Back home, Daria dropped her suitcase in her room and sat on the bed next to Bump to pet the feline. "Yes, I'm back. Did you keep your other humans in line while I was gone?" 

At the door, Karen said, "Oh, yeah, she really cracked the whip. We couldn't get away with anything." 

Jane stepped up behind Karen. "By the way, Daria, you owe Mack for a shirt cleaning. Her Greatness gifted him with a hairball." 

Daria looked down at her cat. "What have I told you about editorial comments?" 

Bump half rolled onto her back and rubbed her head against Daria's hand, who shook her head and said to Jane, "Ask Mike if he prefers payment by check, credit, money order or small, unmarked bills." 

"Now for the next bit of business: when did you run into your old boyfriend?" Karen asked. 

"Tuesday night," Daria said. 

Karen held one palm out to Jane. "Pay up." 

Jane sighed and said, "Morgendorffer, I'm going to get you for starting me on this gambling habit. Now, since I've paid for it, what happened?" 

"We ran into Tom and his new girlfriend and talked over dinner. There was a little Sloane family dysfunction, but sorry, no catfights or explosions." 

Jane held her hand out to Karen. "Pay up." 

"Dammit," Karen said. 

"Did you two do anything while I was gone besides bet on me and my ex-boyfriend?" 

"I got Mack to run a half-marathon with me for training," Jane said. "Chasing him is good incentive." 

Karen's smile faded. "I heard from Derek; he's now in Afghanistan and they didn't waste any time sending him out on patrol." 

Daria's mood also cooled. "Sorry, that can't be a great way to spend Spring Break." 

"I'll make it. I have to, for him." 

Daria said, "Karen, you're a lot stronger than I am."

* * *

Laughing, Tammy and Grace came into the suite, leaning against each other for support. Grace called, "Hey kids, we're home!" 

From the couch, Fran looked up and said, "Hey, guys. Tammy, is that a police badge you're wearing?" 

"Oh, this? It's from a really cute _Federale_ we met one night." 

"She met," Grace said. "Left me out in the cold, until I met this scrumptious musician. So, what kind of fun did you kids have?" 

Talking on her cell phone, Quinn said, "I'm sorry, Jimmy, I can't make it. I, um, have a prior commitment. Okay, okay, yeah, see you in class." 

"Jimmy? As in, the tall, dark rich boy that's in your economics class?" Tammy asked. 

Quinn said, "Yeah." 

"You turned down a date from a cute guy?" Grace incredulously asked. 

Quinn answered, "Um┘I guess I did." 

Tammy said, "Do you have a fever?" 

"No, it just didn't feel like the right thing to do." 

Fran flashed a victor's grin. "So Q is your boyfriend." 

On a fast impulse, Quinn said, "No." However, she stood, going over the confusing conflict of excitement and fear in her own mind before softly admitting, "I don't know." 

"Q? Who's that?" Tammy asked. 

Grace said, "Like in the Star Trek character?" 

Fran said, "She won't admit it, but he's Quinn's new boyfriend." 

"Quinn?" Tammy said. 

Grace said, "Boyfriend?" 

Quinn mentally continued to balance her mind when she briefly thought of Daria, her sister's old fear of being close and how happy she's been with Michael. That allowed the redhead to force down the fear and look at her three friends. "Um, yeah. Boyfriend." 

Tammy looked at Grace. "You know, I think we missed something."

* * *

Thanks to Louise Lobinske, Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. 

July 2007   



	11. Link with the Past

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.   
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2007. 

This is the Fifty-ninth story in the Falling into College series. 

Richard Lobinske 

**Link with the Past**

Link Rouillard weaved his way through the crowded corridor of Lawndale High School. Excitement and apprehension mixed in the 16-year old's stomach when he saw a freckled brunette at her locker, transferring books to a blue denim backpack. From nervous habit, he blinked his eyes to make sure his contacts were in place and not dry. When the girl turned and he saw her slender, gold-framed glasses, he knew he couldn't wait any longer. 

"Hi, Hanna." 

The girl smiled and said, "Link, hi. That was really funny what you said to Mr. Barch." 

He chuckled. "Thanks." 

She warned, "But I'd be careful around Mrs. Barch when we go to Chemistry this afternoon." 

"Yeah, though from what I've heard, she's not as bad as she used to be." 

That made Hanna laugh. "My older brother has some real scary stories about her." 

"I bet." Link took a deep breath and said, "Um, do you want to go to the Zon on Friday? Maybe have some pizza on the way?" 

Hanna tilted her head and smiled again. "Did you just ask me out on a date?" 

Feeling his knees weaken from her smile, he said, "That's┘what it sounded like to me." 

"Then it's a date."

* * *

Thoroughly enjoying the springtime sun shining on the Raft Quad, Wendy said to her walking companion, "You're kidding me. Your sister's birthday is Tax Day?" 

Daria replied, "I kid you not." 

"Let me guess: your parents' taxes were late that year." 

"I've always wondered how many people legitimately used the birth of a child to explain needing an extension." 

Wendy said, "Also speaking of taxes, have you gotten your refund yet?" 

"It arrived at a good time. I'll be glad when I can find another job to pay for the expensive habits I've picked up." 

"Maybe I can help you a little in that department." 

"Oh?" 

"I got a gig directing an original play at the Old Millhouse Theater. We're having open auditions Thursday night. It's a small operation, so the pay isn't great. But, at least it's something." 

Daria joked, "You're trying to get another chance to see me in a dressing room." 

"I won't deny that. You did a good job on _Henry V_ and it sounds like you can use a little extra cash." 

Daria sighed. "I won't deny that I can use the money, either. I know Mom and Dad would send some in a heartbeat, but I don't want to ask if I can avoid it." 

"Then come on, it'll be fun." 

"You know that I have all the fun I can handle." 

Wendy elbowed Daria. "You can bring him along, too."

* * *

Despite the age and poor condition of the magazine, Lindy managed to keep herself distracted with it while waiting in a doctor's examination room. She shuffled her feet and turned a page, feeling hopeful about the upcoming news. 

A middle-aged woman in a lab coat entered and sat down in the chair next to Lindy. The doctor smiled and told the young woman, "Congratulations. The test was positive, everything looks good, and I'd say you're about six weeks along." 

Lindy broke into a glowing smile. "That's wonderful. I've heard all these stories of people trying and trying┘but it's only been two months for us." 

"I'm glad things worked for you so easily. Stuff like this is what makes my job worth it." 

"I can't wait to tell Trent." 

The doctor gave Lindy a handful of pamphlets and photocopies. "I know you've been researching this, but here's information on what to expect and important guidelines on what to do and don't." 

"Thanks." 

The doctor's mood turned more serious. "Pregnancy is going to introduce a lot of new stresses that you've never had before." 

Lindy also grew serious and slowly nodded. "I'll have to be careful to maintain my sobriety." 

"Don't hesitate to use your support framework, if needed. Family, friends, social groups, recovery groups, or me." 

"I'll do that. I like my life the way it is and I don't want to risk a bit of it."

* * *

Full of adrenaline, Link jogged and grinned. "She said yes." The anticipation of a first date with Hanna left him euphoric for the entire trip home from his after-school job at Cluster Burger. 

That euphoria crashed to the ground when he opened the apartment door and heard his mother yelling on the phone, "No, you stupid son-of-a-bitch! You have no parental rights. You're not his father and you never adopted him! You haven't even kept up on the joke for alimony you owe me. Yeah? You too, and the jackass you rode in on!" 

As silent as possible, Link snuck past his mother railing against his ex-stepfather and went straight to his room. He started his computer and changed out of his school clothes while the second-hand unit slowly booted up. Life had improved since he and his mother had found this small apartment and gotten out of the shelter they'd moved to after his mother had left his ex-stepfather. However, the extra phone line to his modem, paid for by his part-time job, was still a lifeline to the outside world. 

His mother's fight brought home the reality that he'd never seen a healthy relationship. His mother's relationships were disasters. His maternal grandparents were divorced and nobody had seen his grandfather in at least ten years. His paternal grandparents should've been divorced, except that they probably couldn't find anyone else to drink with them. He'd never met his ex-stepfather's parents and didn't even know if they were alive. 

"I don't want to mess things up Friday," he told himself. "I wish I had someone to ask." 

His eyes caught a note taped to his monitor with an e-mail address and a RapidTransmit username. "She's cool; I bet Daria can help." 

Link opened his chat software and sent an invitation to DariaM. 

After several seconds, he saw: 

**DariaM: Link? What's up?**

He typed: 

**MissingLink: Can I ask you for some advice?**

In her apartment, Daria had to type around a black cat snoozing on her lap. "I hope his mother isn't having problems again." 

**DariaM: Sure, about what? **

MissingLink: I asked a girl out on a date for Friday. 

DariaM: Okay. From what my fiancИ says, you're past the first difficult part. 

MissingLink: I really like her and I don't want to mess things up. What should I do? 

DariaM: Do about what? 

MissingLink: Everything. 

DariaM: Oh. 

MissingLink: I really don't have anyone to ask around here. All I've seen is how to do things wrong. I'm hoping you can help, at least a little bit. 

Daria rubbed her face. "Oh, boy." 

**DariaM: I'll do what I can. What are your plans?**

* * *

Trent was sprawled on a sofa, strumming his acoustic guitar, occasionally breaking into a short stretch of melody that changed slightly with each effort as he tried to make the tune work. 

Almost bouncing, Lindy came in and sat next to Trent, giving him a long hug. 

He set his guitar aside and returned the hug. "You're in a good mood. Trying to tell me something?" 

Lindy laughed at the suggestion. "Yes, but not that. Well, I suppose it has something to do with that." 

"Um┘what?" 

"We did it! We're going to have a baby." 

It took several seconds for the words to register. "Whoa. Really?" 

"Yes, silly." 

"Whoa." 

Lindy wrapped her arms around Trent's neck. "I hope you're going to say something more than, 'whoa.'" 

"Cool." 

"That's better, though I was hoping for more syllables." 

"Hmm." 

She moved her hands around his neck. "Now you're teasing me." 

"Yep." 

Lindy released his neck and hugged him again. "I'm so happy." 

Trent gently squeezed her and said, "I noticed," while faint concern registered in his eyes.

* * *

**DariaM: That's all I can think of. Good luck, Link. **

MissingLink: Thanks, Daria. I really owe you. Talk to you later. 

DariaM: Good night. 

Daria signed off the message program and said, "I hope my advice helps. I'm not exactly the best person to ask about what other girls will like." 

Bump looked up and meowed. Daria replied, "You should've spoken up earlier, but I'll pass that on the next time I talk to Link. Now, it's time for you to get up. I need a break from this machine." 

Emitting a meow of protest, Bump jumped off of Daria's lap after being nudged. The brunette stood, stretching. "That's better." 

Hearing her cell phone ring, Daria went to her desk and unplugged the charger. Curious about the number, she answered, saying, "Hello." 

Trent said, "Hey Daria, do you have a few minutes to talk?" 

"Sure. What's up, Trent?" 

"Um┘well, Lindy and I have been trying to have a baby." 

Hoping the conversation was not about to go in the direction she feared, Daria said, "Trent, this isn't going to involve too much information, is it?" 

"Huh? Um, I don't think so." 

"Good." 

"We're going to have a baby." 

Daria inwardly chuckled. "By 'we', I'm assuming you mean you and Lindy." 

"Um, yeah. Good one, Daria." 

"Since you said you were trying, I assume that congratulations are in order." 

"Thanks." 

"So┘what did you want to talk about?" 

"I, uh, didn't think it would happen this fast." 

"Ah. Not as ready as you thought you were going to be?" 

"Yeah. This is like, really big, and I've gotta be responsible." 

"Scared?" 

"Uh-huh." 

"You don't know what to do." 

"It's a lot to, um, get your head around." 

"That, it is." Figuring out the basis for Trent's uncertainty, Daria thought for a moment and then said, "Trent, what you're feeling is probably very normal for new fathers. I think you need to face this the way you've always faced things that are important to you." 

"Take a nap?" 

Daria shook her head in friendly disbelief. "Besides that. Put your thoughts and feelings into words. Write a song." 

"Oh, yeah. That's a great idea. Thanks, Daria. I'm going to do that." 

"Trent┘" 

"Yeah, Daria? 

"I think you're going to be a good father." 

"Really?" 

"I know you were there for Jane and it wasn't easy for you. Look how she turned out." 

Trent laughed and coughed. "I thought she raised me." 

"Okay, you raised each other, and still did a good job." 

"I guess so. Later, Daria." 

"Good night, Trent. And tell Lindy congratulations from me." 

"I will."

* * *

Jane angrily stared at the e-mail on her computer. "Greek Inter-Chapter Social Activity Forum my ass. Mack, we both know it's an oversized frat party with every chapter at Vance joining in." 

"Hey," Daria said from the door. "Bad time?" 

Jane spun her computer chair around to face Daria. "Nah, not really. Just a little bummed that Mack can't make it this weekend for the Street Revolt Art Show. I have a couple of pieces entered." 

"Fraternity obligations?" 

"So to speak. I heard you on the phone earlier and it sounded like you were talking to my brother." 

"I was. As I'm sure you know, he was feeling a little overwhelmed by Lindy's condition." 

"Condition?" 

"You know, pregnant." 

Jane flew off of the chair. "What!" 

Daria stepped back. "Uh, oh." 

"Lindy's pregnant?" 

"Yes┘" 

"And my brother told you and not me." 

"Jane, I'm sure he's about to call you with the news. He just needed someone to talk to first." 

"He could talk to me." 

"Jane, Trent needed to hear from someone outside of the family. He's scared about becoming a parent like┘some other family members." 

"Okay, I can see that. Please tell me it was planned." 

"Yes, it was planned, but it sounds like things happened sooner than expected." 

Jane couldn't avoid a smirk. "What can I say, we Lanes are fertile. Look at how many of us there are." 

Daria smirked back. "Have you warned Mack about that?" 

"Trust me; I take as many precautions as you." 

Hearing the apartment telephone ring, Daria said, "I bet that's Trent." 

"It better be," Jane said as she went into the dining room to answer the phone. "Hello." 

"Hi, Janey," Trent said. 

"So, big brother, do you have any news for me?" 

"Well, now that you mention it┘" 

Jane interrupted, "Daria just told me." 

"Oh. Uh, sorry. I think I should've told you first." 

"Yeah, but I'll forgive you this time." 

"That's cool." 

"Just don't do it again." 

"I better write a note on my arm." 

Jane laughed and said, "If you do that, don't get confused and start a band called, 'Tell Jane First.'" 

"Hey, that kinda has a ring to it." 

"Trent┘" 

"Or maybe not." 

Jane continued to tease her brother. "Daria tells me that you're scared spitless." 

"No, just a little┘nervous." 

"Trent, Lindy is not going to let you screw up." 

"Hmm." 

"Anyway, congratulations. I bet Lindy's happy." 

"She's glowing." 

"Since she likes the refrigerator clean, I'm sure that's not from something she ate." 

"Good one, Janey." 

Jane dropped her teasing. "Trent, you're going to be fine. Lindy's a good person, and your kid will have Aunt Janey around to keep her in line." She mischievously glanced at her roommate. "As well as Aunt Daria." 

Trent said, "Aunt Daria. I like the sound of that." 

Daria glared at Jane. "You're going to pay for that."

* * *

Lewis opened his apartment door and said in greeting, "Hey, Daria. How's it going?" 

"Weird. How are things for you?" 

"Pretty good, for a change. My final set of experiments is running well. With a little luck, I should be able to finish in a month or two. After that, it's focus on actually writing my dissertation." 

"Congratulations. Where's Michael?" 

"He's in his room, waiting for you." Lewis hesitated, and then asked, "Will I need to be somewhere else?" 

"No, I think I'm more in a mood to talk. Like I said, it's been weird." 

"Ah, okay. You can do some mutual griping; he was looking a little beat when he came home." 

"Always the mark of a good relationship." 

Daria slowly pushed the bedroom door open and said, "Michael?" 

Slouching on an old recliner tucked into a corner, reading, he sat up and said, "Hey. How was your day?" 

"Very strange." She crawled onto the chair next to him. "When did I become a counselor?" 

Softly putting his arms around her, Michael said, "Can I have the back-story before I answer?" 

"You really need to learn telepathy; it'll make things so much easier." 

"But then I wouldn't have as much time to sit with you like this while you explain." 

Daria snuggled against him. "That got you off the hook, this time." 

"Then start from the beginning, and take your time," Michael said, kissing her forehead. 

"I suppose the weird stuff started when Wendy talked me into trying out for a play she's directing." 

"Oh boy, that's how it started?"

* * *

Still sharing the recliner with Daria, Michael said, "People respect your advice. I wish someone had told me something like that when I was sixteen." 

Daria gave him a light-hearted glare. "I'm sure your mother did." 

"How much did you listen to your mother when you were that age?" 

"Now that you mention it┘" 

"About as much as I did." 

"Probably less," Daria had to admit. "I hope my advice was good. I've changed since high school, but I'm still hardly your typical girl." 

"That, you're not," Michael said, kissing her neck. "You're much better." 

She arched her neck and sighed with pleasure, letting him continue for a few seconds. "You're trying to distract me." 

"Well, yes." 

"It's not completely working, but you don't have to stop." 

"I won't." 

"And what do I know about having kids? Or being a good parent?" 

Michael moved to look Daria in the eye. "Does anybody before they become one? You asked Trent to look inside himself. Sounds good to me." 

"You make it sound like I'm making sense." Daria gave him a slow, lingering kiss. "So, what do you think about me trying out for that play?" 

"Why not?" Michael started kissing her neck again. "It'll give me a chance to see you live on stage instead of on tape." 

"Mmm, you're good." 

"Are you distracted, yet?" 

Daria whispered, "Yes." 

In the living room, Lewis cocked his ear and listened. With a soft chuckle, he said, "They're awfully quiet. I think I'll run out to the grocery store for a few things."

* * *

Link squinted at the algebraic equation on his homework paper and thought through the problem. Just as he started to form in his mind the path to solving it, his mother entered the bedroom with the phone in her hand. "Link, it's for you. Some girl named Hanna." 

"Um, uh, thanks Mom." He took the phone and hoped to hide his anxiety as he said, "Hello?" 

Hanna said, "Hi. I realized that we never set up a time for Friday." 

Link closed his eyes in embarrassment that he'd forgotten something so simple. "How about six?" 

"That's cool. But I need to warn you that my dad's probably going to give you the third degree before we leave." 

"I, uh, think I can handle it." 

"I bet. Well, now that we have it figured out, I need to go. I'm barely halfway through my algebra homework." 

"I'm working on that, too. See you tomorrow." 

"Bye." 

"Good-bye." 

After Link turned the handset off, he noticed his mother waiting in the doorway. She said, "That sounded like you have a date with this young girl." 

"Um, yeah. Friday. By the way, can I borrow the car?" 

"It's time that we had a little talk." 

He sighed, dreading what he might hear. "Mom┘"

* * *

Elaine Weaver's kitchen looked the same as it had for the last twenty years. Every appliance, every bowl and every utensil was in their proper place, plus there was a bud vase with a fresh flower centered on the dining table. The woman looked across it at her daughter to say, "Does this mean that Trent will finally go out to look for a real job?" 

Irritated, Lindy said, "Mom, writing and playing music is Trent's real job." 

"I mean something with a steady paycheck." 

"He's a regular at both McGrundy's and the Zon. That is steady income. Plus, he does freelance composition for jingles with the agency I work for." 

"Lindy, he's still trying to be a single bum living some childish dream." 

"Yeah, but that's what we want. Trent and I are living our dreams. He has his music and I have my design work. We're happy and we get to see each other more than most couples working your 'real' jobs." 

"But once that child comes along, mark my words; you'll be the one doing all the work and Trent will still be lying around." 

Lindy stood in anger. "I don't know why I even bother. Can't you just for once in your life be happy for me?" 

"Honey, I want you to be happy. That's why I'm worried." 

"You're not listening. Just be happy for me┘not want me to be happy. Please." 

"I don't want you to make the same mistake I did." 

"Mom, Dad was a grade A asshole. Trent is nothing like that." 

Also angry, Elaine said, "Lindy, your father was not like that when I married him. But my mother knew he was bad news and I didn't listen." 

"Just┘oh, forget it. I was hoping for a little good advice on my pregnancy, but I see I'm only going to get the same old tired lectures from you." 

"That's because you never listen to them." 

"I really don't need this. Mom, I'll call you later. Maybe we can talk better over the phone." 

"Lindy┘" 

"We're only going to make things worse if we try to continue this. Later." 

Lindy turned and forced herself not to storm out of her mother's house. 

Elaine watched and muttered, "I'm not going to let you ruin my grandchild's life."

* * *

Between classes the next day, Link stopped by Hanna's locker. "Hanna, can I ask you a question?" 

"Sure Link, what?" 

"Before I get interrogated by your dad, does he have any special issues that I need to worry about?" 

Confused, she asked, "Like what?" 

"Like anything that will make him really freaky." 

"Nah, I was pulling your leg a little bit. He's a pretty boring dad that's going to do the usual 'protecting his daughter' bit. Why?" 

"Well, after Mom asked about you last night, I started to get a little worried." 

"Your mom was asking about me?" 

"After you called. Mom is┘well, different." 

"Is she afraid I'm going to seduce you?" 

Link blushed and said, "Part of it." 

"Where would she get that idea?" 

"Mom's not the most stable person in the relationship department. She thinks everyone is going to make her mistakes." 

Hanna asked, "Does that mean you were┘" 

"An accident? Yeah. I've known for as long as I can remember." 

"Sorry." 

Link shrugged. "I deal." 

"Look, I'll try to get Dad to chill out a little on you." 

"Thanks." 

Hanna finished exchanging books and closed her locker. "Oh, there is one thing that Dad might worry about. Are you going to be driving any kind of fancy, fast car?" 

Link leaned against a nearby locker, laughing. 

Hanna smirked and said, "I'll take that as a 'no'."

* * *

After starting to shut down her work computer, Lindy rotated her chair to face her husband, asleep on the sofa, guitar on his lap and battered songbook open on his chest. She smiled and crossed the room to kneel beside him. Lindy kissed his cheek and whispered, "Trent," while gently shaking his shoulder. 

Trent's eyes opened and he mumbled, "Hey, I'm writing a song here." 

She kissed him again. "I know, dear. I just wanted to tell you I'm going out for a while." 

"Oh, that's cool." 

"So, whatcha writing?" 

"I'm not sure yet┘conceptualizing, you know." 

"Ah, I see. Just let the magic do its thing." 

He kissed her in return. "You know me too well." 

"I'll be back in a couple hours. We'll make dinner then." 

"It's that late? Wow, I better get back to writing." 

Lindy smirked. "I'll let you. Bye." 

"Bye." 

After Lindy left, Trent hummed and started to write: 

**

_Magic is the heart of life_

**

* * *

Helen answered the front door and said, "Lindy, what a nice surprise. Come in, please." 

"Hi, Helen. How are you doing?" 

The older woman held up her polished, rosewood cane topped with gleaming brass. "I'm getting around a lot better and back to full-time at the office. Still have to work a little slower, but I'm getting there." 

"That's great. Helen, can I ask you for a little advice?" 

"After all you've done for me, of course. Would you like something to drink?" 

"Water," Lindy said, following Helen to the kitchen. 

Helen poured a glass of water and picked up a can of vegetable juice for herself before leading the younger woman to the table. "What's on your mind?" 

"I'm pregnant." 

"Oh! Congratulations. Uh┘" 

"Yes, it's planned, if a little sooner than expected. I've only been off the pill for two months." 

Helen was visibly relieved. "Let me guess; you're wondering what you've gotten yourself into." 

"Yep." 

"I'm surprised you're not talking to your mother or Amanda." 

Lindy sighed in deep frustration. "I tried talking to my mom, but it went really badly. Amanda's a wonderfully sweet lady, but she's┘not always there." 

"Yes, she does travel a lot." 

"I meant even when she's not traveling." 

"Oh." 

"Look at your daughters. I think I could learn a lot from you." 

Helen laughed a little at herself. "Thank you, Lindy, but I'm not sure how I ended up so lucky. I made plenty of mistakes and I missed too much of them growing up. Some days, I think that Daria and Quinn turned out well in spite of what I did, not because of it." 

"You're a strong woman and you've raised two determined daughters. There must be something I can learn from you." 

Helen earnestly looked into Lindy's eyes. "Something that came to me the hard way; don't lose sight of your family."

* * *

On her return home, Lindy had a good feeling of things to come. Not from an overly-rosy picture, but from Helen's frank and straightforward advice on what to expect over the coming months. But at the end, it would be worth it. From some of the things Quinn had mentioned about her older sister, Lindy was sure that Daria would be horrified that Helen had showed her all of those baby pictures. 

Inside, Trent was still on the sofa, with the open notebook fallen to the side. Lindy read the beginning of the song and smiled. "Softy." She bent over and started to kiss his earlobe just above the piercings. 

Trent almost purred and rolled toward Lindy, falling off of the sofa with a graceless thump. Eyes finally open, he looked up and said, "I meant to do that." 

"Yeah, I could tell by your cat-like grace." 

Standing up, Trent said, "Hey, this means you're back." 

Lindy patted his stomach and said, "Yes, we can go fix dinner, now." 

Cautious, Trent asked, "You're not going to want to fix anything really weird, are you?" 

Lindy patted his shoulder and gently pushed him toward the kitchen. "I've been assured that the cravings don't start this early. But when they do hit, just think of it as sharing, since I'm the one that gets to carry this kid around for nine months." 

"Hmm, I hope they involve peanut butter."

* * *

**MissingLink: What really burns me is that Mom wasn't as concerned about the poor kid resulting from an accidental pregnancy as she was about having to cover child support since I'm under 18. **

DariaM: Ouch. 

MissingLink: I hate when she does that, going from barely knowing I exist to being all over me. 

DariaM: I think some level of that is in the Mother's Contract. 

MissingLink: Was your mom like that? 

DariaM: Not as bad, but yeah, especially when I got my first boyfriend. She'd sprint up the stairs with snacks so that we wouldn't be 'tempted.' 

MissingLink: That's funny. 

DariaM: And after a couple months, she went back to almost forgetting we were there. One time, she didn't even notice that my boyfriend and I had fallen asleep while studying. We woke up at around four in the morning and my boyfriend had to sneak out. 

MissingLink: And she never knew the difference? 

DariaM: No, my dad was downstairs looking for a snack. When he mentioned it to her, she immediately went ubermom on me. 

MissingLink: Ouch. 

DariaM: That was very awkward, but I survived. Just as you will. 

MissingLink: I hope so. 

DariaM: It beats the alternative. 

MissingLink: Good point.

* * *

A wolf whistle cut through the air as Daria led Michael toward the small theater's stage. Turned around in a seat of the front row was Isabelle, the tall, blonde costumer that Daria had met the year before. Isabelle loudly said, "Damn, girl, you're looking good. Wendy's really getting you into shape." 

"Thanks, just tell everyone what you think," Daria replied. 

"Don't I always? So, what part are you trying out for?" 

Daria and Michael reached the front and took seats behind Isabelle. Daria said, "Whatever." 

Scattered in the audience chairs were about twenty or so other people ready to audition. After a brief word with one young man, Wendy hurried over to Daria. "Hey, here's the script for tonight. Oh, and I need to get you to fill out this audition form." Wendy looked at Daria's fiancИ. "Michael, do you want one?" 

He waved his hand. "Nah, I'm here for psychological support." 

"So you're Daria's boy toy." Isabelle said. 

Taken off-guard, Michael managed to said, "Um┘yeah." 

Isabelle winked at Daria. "Good, he knows his place." 

Michael said, "Let me guess, they're not always like this. Sometimes, they're worse." 

Daria nodded. "Inhibition is not in their vocabulary." 

While Daria was finishing the form, a woman with hair as black as Jane's appeared at one corner of the stage and looked around. She was in her mid-twenties, with a modest figure and hair drawn into a thick braid. Seemingly satisfied with the turnout, she hopped off the stage and spoke for several seconds with Wendy. 

Wendy led the woman to a seat and then said, "Okay everybody, we're ready to start. This is Lorna Kayukova, the writer and producer of our show." 

Lorna turned and waved. "Thank you for coming out tonight. I hope we're going to have a wonderful show." 

Wendy vaulted onto the stage and turned to look around. After a check of her clipboard, she said, "I'm going to start with some of the supporting characters. "April, Joshua, come on up and read from page six, Amelia and Randall." 

While the two actors were reading, Wendy and Lorna listened intently and took notes. Isabelle turned and whispered to Daria. "Wait until you see the costumes I have designed for this show. Daria, with how you're looking now, you'll be a knockout in some of them." 

She blushed faintly and said, "Thanks. It's not like I've been exercising for looks. After my mom's stroke, I realized that I need to take better care of myself." 

"I heard about that through the grapevine. How's she doing?" 

"Pretty good. She's back to work and only needs a cane to get around now." 

"That's pretty cool." Isabelle then said to Michael, "But I'm sure you're not complaining about how she looks." 

"She's always looked beautiful," he answered. 

Isabelle smirked and said, "He's good." 

Daria squeezed Michael's hand and said, "Yes, he is." 

"Oh, that sounds like fun," Isabelle said. 

Daria decided to turn the conversation around. "Isabelle, how's your love life doing lately?" 

"Well, I'm kinda in between right now and looking. Know any good prospects?" 

Daria looked at Michael. "I'm sure that one of your friends could use a date." 

"Are you sure you want to do that to your friend?" he asked. 

With the first pair done with their reading, Wendy said, "Okay, same scene, let's try Daria and Frank." 

"Oops, that's me," Daria said, rising from her chair. "Back in a minute." 

Still looking over the chair back, Isabelle playfully asked, "Tell me, how did a nerd like you hook up a hot, brainy chick like Daria?" 

Recovered from his earlier surprise, Michael said, "I took a chance and asked her out." 

"I'm sure it wasn't that easy." 

"Well, there was the gut-wrenching fear of rejection." 

Isabelle quieted her laughing and said, "That I can believe." 

Michael remembered some of Daria's stories and said, "You made the costumes for the play she was in last year." 

"That's me. I understand you appreciated my handiwork on Daria." 

"Very much." 

Isabelle grinned. "Then wait until you see what I can do for her this time." 

"It sounds like you already have something in mind." 

"I've read the play. Daria may not have any idea about what part she wants, but I know what part would be great for her, and I bet that's why Wendy talked her into auditioning." 

"Sounds like a plot." 

"It is. Speaking of plots - if you and Daria are planning blind dates, you should at least tell me about these guys and let me pick." 

"Well, they don't have great personalities┘"

* * *

A couple hours later, Wendy and Lorna were seated on the edge of the stage quietly comparing notes while Daria, Michael and Isabelle were still talking. 

After hearing the story of Daria and Michael's engagement, Isabelle said, "You are a little drama queen under that cool exterior. I knew it." 

"Hey, I was having a bad day," Daria said in explanation. 

"It sounded like it," Isabelle agreed. "You've got to admit that he had a great way to cheer you up." 

Michael said, "Even if I can only do it once." 

Isabelle snickered and said, "Isn't that the problem with all guys?" 

Daria carefully smiled and said, "Not for everything." 

Before Isabelle could speak, Wendy stood and said, "Okay everybody, I think we've decided. Donna, Willy, you have the leads, Mina and Randolph. We thought the chemistry between you two was wonderful." 

A slender brunette and a stocky, muscular man with light brown hair smiled and congratulated each other. 

Wendy continued, "For the part of Gwen, Daria, it's yours." 

Isabelle pumped her fist and said, "Yeah!" She turned and said, "Oh, do I have plans for you." 

Daria noticed Michael's sheepish smile and said, "What did I just get myself into?"

* * *

Quinn squealed with delight as she listened to Lindy on the phone. Her suitemates, scattered around the living room, all turned and looked at her as she said, "That's wonderful! I'm sorry you couldn't get through before; I lost the charger to my phone and couldn't find a new one until this morning. You'd think that a phone charger would be a phone charger, but no, I had to find the one made just for my phone." 

Lindy was seated on the sofa, talking on the phone and watching Trent get ready for the evening's performance. "What's important is that I finally got a chance to tell you." 

"Is Trent excited?" 

"In his way. I think he's going to get a lot of songs out of this." 

"Hmm?" Trent asked. 

"Nothing, honey. I was talking to Quinn." 

"Say 'hi' for me," he said. 

To the phone, Lindy said, "Trent says 'hi.' He's getting ready for tonight's gig at the Zon and to try out a new song." 

Quinn said, "Are you going to be there?" 

"I'm always there when he tries out a new song. He says I give him good luck." 

"You tell him he's lucky to have you." 

"Speaking of lucky," Lindy said. "How's things with your new boyfriend?" 

"Good, when we get to see each other. Kinda busy with school and stuff. Driving from one side of LA to the other isn't a quick trip." 

"I bet, but I also bet you have some great places to go when you get together." 

"Oh, Lindy, you have got to get out here sometime. You and Trent would love it." 

Lindy looked down at her stomach. "I'd like that, if we can swing it. Probably be a good idea to go before the baby's due." 

"Just let me know." 

Carrying his guitar case and dressed in a trim, black and grey shirt and slacks, Trent said, "Ready?" 

She nodded to her husband and said into the phone, "I need to go, talk to you later, Quinn." 

"Have fun, Lindy. I can't wait to start looking for maternity clothes for you." 

Lindy laughed and said, "You do that. Bye." 

After setting the phone on its cradle, Lindy said, "Well, tiger, ready to show them your stuff?" 

Trent put his free arm around her waist, kissed her and said, "As long as you're with me."

* * *

_Link, I want you on your best behavior tonight. This girl is a person in her own right, not some notch on your belt. _ Link remembered his mother's parting comment as he drove the old, blue Pacer up to the gas pumps at a local convenience store. "Thanks, Mom. Like I want to screw this up. Oh well, at least you let me have the car tonight." 

After shutting the car's engine off, Link jogged inside the store and handed the dark-haired, bored looking clerk some cash, saying, "Ten of regular, please." 

"Sure thing, buddy," the clerk said. He slowly and carefully rang up the sale and set the pump auto-shutoff to the proper amount. "All set. Hey, you're dressed up tonight." 

"Got a date." 

"Cool. Is she good looking?" 

Link replied, "I think so." 

"Good luck, dude." 

"Thanks. You take it easy tonight." 

"I will." Kevin Thompson watched the teenager walk back to the old car and thought, _At least I don't have to pump the gas like that old test said I would._

Link looked at the car as he dispensed the fuel. "At least it runs, and with a full tank, Hanna won't have to worry about me running out of gas." When the pump stopped with a loud clunk, he put the nozzle back on the pump and thought, "Hmm, maybe I should've filled it up after I picked her up. Too late now."

* * *

Lindy sat at the Zon's bar, twirling an "underage" bracelet around her wrist while watching Trent set up on the stage. The college-age woman working behind the bar set a glass in front of Lindy and said, "Your usual, one diet soda. Do you want some cheddar onion rings to go with that?" 

"No, can I just have some peanuts tonight?" 

The bartender filled a bowl from a large jar under the bar and said, "You okay?" 

Accepting the peanuts, Lindy said, "I'm fine, but I need to be a little more careful about what I eat." 

"Ah, you look fine to me. I wish I could get down to your weight." 

"That's not it, though I will be putting on a few pounds over the next eight months." 

The bartender happily grinned. "You're going to have a baby?" 

"That's right." 

"Congratulations. How's Trent dealing with it?" 

"Pretty good, I think. We'll know for certain after he plays tonight. Trent's been writing most of the week." 

"So he had to think about it." 

"Yeah. I can't blame him; I've had to think about it, too."

* * *

The tall man with neatly trimmed brown hair and small, oval glasses opened the door and said, "You must be Link. Come on in, I'm Hanna's father." 

Nervous, he entered and said, "Um, hello, sir." _Don't mess up. Don't mess up._

Link thought he caught a glint of something positive when the older man looked at the car and said, "Is that your car?" 

"My mom's." 

"I see." The man closed the door and ushered Link into a living room that contained too much furniture facing an entertainment center overflowing with videotapes. "Hanna is upstairs, getting ready. She says that you have a job. Where?" 

"Cluster Burger. It's nothing fancy, but it provides my spending money." 

The man nodded. "I care for my daughter very much." 

"I have no doubt. I, uh, really like her, too." 

"I'm sure you do, that's why you asked her out on a date." 

_Brilliant._ "Yeah, I guess that was obvious." 

The man nodded again and asked, "What are your plans for tonight?" 

"Well, I thought we would have some pizza and then go see who's playing at the Zon." 

Hanna's father started walking toward the front window. "That's the club just off downtown, right?" 

"Yes." 

"I hear that it's a little seedy." 

Concern rising, Link said, "It's a little rough looking, but it's the only place in town for us to catch live music." 

"Is it safe?" 

"I've never seen a real problem there." 

"What about drinking? I hear that they serve adults, also." 

Link gulped and said, "They card everyone at the door and give you a colored bracelet." 

"Lots of people find fake IDs." 

"I guess, so, but the bouncer's really good at spotting them. I've seen him throw a couple kids out for fakes." 

"Hmm." The man looked out of the window at the car again and turned, a faint smile playing on his face. "At least I can be sure that you won't be hot-rodding around town in that." 

"No, sir." 

The smile grew as he said, "And with all that glass, there's not much privacy in the back seat." 

Link felt his body relax at the joke just as he heard. 

A cry of, "Dad!" came from up on from the stairs. Link's attention was drawn to Hanna as she walked down the steps. She wore a knee-length black skirt, low boots and a brocaded vest of deep blue and gold over a blouse with gauzy, black sleeves. 

Her father said, "You look nice, sweetie. Have a good time tonight. Link seems like a good guy." 

"Thanks, Dad. I can't believe you said that about the car." 

"It's true," he said. "And from my viewpoint, it's a plus. I'm still allowed to be a little protective of my daughter. Oh, and be back by ten." 

"I promise, Dad." 

Another voice said, "It's about time you stopped scaring that poor boy." Hanna's mother entered from what Link guessed was an office or den. "It's nice to meet you, Link. I hope you two have a fun night." 

"Um, thanks," he said. To Hanna, he said, "Hi. Are you ready to go?" 

"Yeah. Bye Mom, bye Dad," she said. 

Her parents said, "Goodbye" and gave both a friendly wave as they left the house. On the way, Hanna said, "I hope Dad wasn't too bad." 

_He really cares about Hanna and trusts her._ Cool. He said, "No, I think he did things just about right." 

She finally noticed the old Pacer and said, "My God, it looks like a fish bowl. No wonder my dad said what he did."

* * *

**_

Magic is the heart of life   
Beating its chant within   
To calm the soul's strife   
For new life to begin.

_**

Trent played out the last chords on his guitar and nodded his head to the applauding crowd. "That was for Lindy. Thank you. I'm Trent Lane, and I'll be back for another set later." 

Hanna watched the pretty blonde greet the singer and the two walk away. She turned to Link sitting on the stool next to hers. "Aw, that was so sweet of him." 

Link replied, "From what I've heard, they've been real good for each other." 

"That's cool. You said he's a regular here. What about her?" 

"Seems like she's usually here, but I haven't really paid attention." Link checked his watch and said, "Well, I suppose we should be going." 

Disappointed, she said, "I have until ten." 

"I know, but I figure if we're a little early, I'll be on your father's good side a little bit more." 

Hanna smiled at that. "That sounds like you want to go out with me again." 

He reached across the small table to hold her hand. "I'd like that. What would you like to do?" 

"I don't know, yet. Can you give me a little while to think about it?" 

"Sure."

* * *

Behind the Zon, Trent and Lindy leaned against the fender of their black SUV and let the evening breeze cool them. She leaned against him and said, "Thank you. That was beautiful." 

Trent slipped his arm around her and drew Lindy closer. "And you're magic." 

She closed her eyes and moved his hand over her stomach. "Do you think we know what we're doing?" 

"No, but we'll learn together."

* * *

Thanks to Louise Lobinske, Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. 

August 2007   



	12. History and Theater

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2007.

This is the Sixtieth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**History and Theater**

Excited by her news, Karen ran up the stairs to her apartment, barely slowing as she slung the door open and then pulled it shut. Inside, she had to swerve to avoid Jane and her boyfriend, who were apparently about to leave.

Jane said, "Whoa, girl. What's the rush?"

"I got a promotion to work with the zoo's vet. I'm going to stay in Boston for the summer," she said. "And it comes with a nice pay raise."

"Cool," Jane said, seeming subdued.

Mike "Mack" MacKenzie said, "Congratulations."

"Thanks. Hey, is Daria around?"

Jane pointed. "Getting ready for rehearsal. Mack and I were about to head out, so you have the place to yourself again."

Karen said, "Don't let me hold you up. Have fun."

"We'll try," Jane said.

Karen jogged down the hallway to Daria's room as Jane and Mack left. At the door, Karen said, "Hey, are you respectable in there?"

"No, but I'm dressed," Daria answered.

Karen went in and said, "I got the job with the zoo's vet. You'll have me to look at all summer."

Keeping a straight face, Daria said, "Damn, I'll have to cancel my plans for renting your bedroom at hourly rates."

Unfazed, Karen said, "No wonder my bed was a little sticky when I got back after last summer. Where's my cut?"

"Sorry, but it just covered your storage fees."

"Dammit," Karen joked in reply.

"Hey, joking aside, congratulations," Daria said. "How are you going to tell your old boss in Georgia that you won't be helping him this year?"

"Carefully, but I think he'll understand."

Daria sat on her bed and put on her boots. "That's good. Don't want to seem rude, but I'm due at rehearsal soon."

"I can use a little peace and quiet," Karen said. "Will Michael be there?"

"No, he's working on a project for his Historical Industrial Development class with his friend Clarice. It's basically their final exam and covers 30 of their total grade."

"Ah, I see. Well, have fun tonight."

"Thanks. Have you heard from Derek lately?"

"I'm expecting an e-mail from him tonight."

"Hope it's good news," Daria said as she finished tying her shoelaces and stood, grabbing some of her text books. "For between scenes," she explained.

"Yeah, I have some studying for the weekend, too."

Karen went to her room while Daria went to the door. Outside, she was surprised to find Jane standing alone on the landing, looking down at Mack's car driving away. Daria quietly said, "Jane?"

Jane shrugged and said, "Little argument, no big deal. We'll stew for a while, he'll come back, we'll get over it and have great makeup sex."

Daria started to say, "That's…" and then changed her mind. "I hope he comes back soon."

"Yeah, me too," Jane agreed.

* * *

Sitting on the back of one of the front row seats of the theater, Wendy said, "I need a hint more sultriness in your voice, Daria. The kind that just piques his interest so that he'll think it's his idea when he comes to you." 

Up on the partially set stage, Daria sighed and said, "I'm trying, but it's not something that comes naturally. Sometimes I wonder why you picked me for the part. I'm nothing like this."

Wendy grinned. "That's why it's called 'acting,' Daria. I picked you because you look the part and I'm sure that once you get the knack for it, you'll be very convincing as a subtle seductress. Besides, think of the fun you can have with your fiancé afterwards." Wendy saw the very brief frown of disappointment on the face of the handsome, black-haired actor on stage with Daria. She waved her script and said, "Okay, Brian, let's take it from where Alex says, 'I don't know…'"

Daria and Brian repositioned themselves on the stage, with him seated at an office desk and Daria near a door. He said, "I don't know, Rachel. She seems so distracted lately."

Hitting just the tone Wendy was after, Daria said, "Well, maybe she is," and slowly stepped through the door before briefly looking back over her shoulder at him.

Wendy clapped and said, "Perfect."

* * *

Karen pushed the button on her computer's CD drive and grumbled, "Play, you sorry-assed excuse for a clay pigeon." Wearing earphones, she glanced at the wall between her room and Jane's. "I really don't want to listen to them tonight. Why can't they make up over a nice dinner instead?" The player program on her computer came up and she clicked the 'play' button. "Ah, relief. Thank you, Dixie Chicks." 

Tapping her foot to the music, Karen checked her e-mail and was glad to see a sought-after address. She immediately opened it and read.

**Karen, **

Thanks for the peanut brittle, it lasted for all of about five minutes! I hope you don't mind, but everyone in the squad shares any real food items we get in the mail. The mess hall may be a big step up from MREs, but it still doesn't compare to something from home. Check out the picture I attached. I got the idea from one you showed me of your grandfather. I hope you like it, it took some creative trading to pull it off.

Getting computer time is still tough, so I don't know when I'll be able to write you again. I know the end of the semester is coming up, good luck with everything.

Love,  
Derek 

Curious, Karen opened the attached file and then sat back in surprise. Derek stood next to the driver's door of a humvee. On the door was a replica of the nose art that was on her grandfather's B-17, a woman wearing a red bathing suit and holding a parasol over her head. However, it was Karen's face on the figure and written above and below were the words, "Southern Surprise". She bit her lip and hit the reply button for the e-mail.

**Derek, **

That picture was certainly a surprise. Thank you.

Next time, I'll send a bigger batch of goodies so that you can share. Thanks for the best wishes about finals and stuff, I can always use them.

I have some good news -I got the job at the zoo! That way, I can stay in Boston. I'll miss my family, but it will be good to be close to yours while you're gone. Otherwise, things are about the same here. Daria's off at rehearsal again and Jane's with Mike. Sometimes, seeing everyone together makes me really miss you. I hope you can come back soon.

Take care of yourself, please.

I love you,  
Karen.

* * *

Clarice heard the squeak of a library cart and looked up from her note-taking, using her left hand to brush a lock of blond hair away from her hazel eyes. She joked, "Michael, a real man would've carried the books." 

The red-headed man tapped his temple and said, "Thinking man has big brain and uses tools." A couple at a time, he started transferring books from a stack on the cart to a stack on the library work table. "Necessity may be the mother of invention, but laziness is the father."

"You are getting into this subject way too much."

Michael parked the cart against the wall next to a nearby copy machine and sat down across the table from Clarice. "That's the way I get 'A's."

"And that's why I grabbed you as a research partner. Michael Fulton does not get a 'B' in history classes."

"So I'm only a brain to you," he said.

Clarice smirked at him and said, "Since Daria gets your body, I'll have to settle for what's left."

"Hey," he said in defense, "she likes that, too."

Snapping her fingers in an "oh, shucks" motion, Clarice said, "Just my luck. Anyway, back to the mines."

Michael selected one book from the pile and opened it. "Got it right here; more than we'll probably ever want to know about coal mining in England."

"You are such a geek."

* * *

Book bag over one shoulder, Clarice stepped into her apartment and closed the door, turning to set two locks and a chain. Enjoying her good mood, she tossed the book bag on a worn armchair on her way to the futon in the center of the room and pulled it out to make her bed. From under the small end table that doubled as a night stand, she collected sheets and made the bed, setting the two decorative pillows that came with the piece of furniture as her sleeping pillows. 

Whistling, Clarice grabbed a long, black nightshirt from the closet set into one wall of the room, stripped away her clothes, and tossed them into a plastic clothes basket on her way to the bathroom.

A couple of minutes later, she emerged wearing the nightshirt, which featured an impossibly cute cat looking up from reading a book, with the caption, "What?" Clarice set her alarm and then switched off the room light before climbing into bed. She said to herself, "I had a good time tonight. Michael's a lot of fun to work with, even for a geek girl like me." Starting to drift off to sleep, the blonde mumbled, "Too bad he's taken."

* * *

Early Sunday afternoon, Michael fidgeted on the sofa of Daria's apartment, wondering what could be up. Daria had been in her room with Isabelle, the play's costume director, for what seemed like an hour already. When the almost six-foot-tall blonde stepped out of the hallway, he asked, "So what's the big fuss?" 

She had a Puck-like smirk as she said, "I need to see your reaction."

Confused, he said, "My reaction? I'm not exactly what you would call an expert about fashion. My sister used to say that she wondered how I even managed to dress myself."

"Irrelevant," Isabelle said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "What I'm looking for is reaction, not analysis. Okay, Daria, it's time to make your entrance."

"Give me a second; I'm not used to walking in these," Daria said from her room.

Isabelle leaned back to watch. "Be glad I didn't pick up the four-inch heels."

"Then I would've had to kill you with one," Daria replied as she unsteadily came into view, walking on black high heels. The slinky black dress fit her trim figure perfectly, showing just how much her daily walks and better diet had made a difference. An embroidered floral pattern started at the lower left hem and traveled up and around her body to end at the thin strap going over her right shoulder and also accenting the tantalizing V-neckline. From the right bottom hem, a slit rose up the skirt to just about mid-thigh, showing her toned leg with each step she took.

Isabelle's eye twinkled at the crash of surprise, attraction and hint of jealousy in Michael's face. "Bingo," she said. "Can I cook, or can I cook?"

Using the same voice she learned for the play, Daria seductively asked her fiancé, "Like what you see?"

Taking care with her steps, she walked over to Michael as he tried to say something. She stopped before him and said, "I'll take the inability to speak as a 'yes'," and kissed him.

Isabelle mussed his hair and said, "Smart move, big boy. Opening night, there's going to be a lot of disappointed guys out there when they hear she's off the market."

* * *

Daria reflexively gasped as Michael squeezed his car into a narrow gap between two others on the busy street as he shifted lanes. She said, "We don't have to be in that much of a hurry. The horses will be there and the prepaid riding time won't expire." 

"Sorry," he said. "We haven't had much time together lately; I guess I'm a little impatient."

"A little impatient? You're driving almost like my dad."

"Come on, that's an exaggeration." When someone made almost the same maneuver to change lanes in front of him, he yelled, "Watch it, asshole!"

"No, I'm not," she said. "I'd like to get out of Boston in one piece."

"You're worrying….dammit!" Michael jerked his attention back forward as the car that just cut in front of them suddenly lurched under heavy braking as the line in front came to a stop. A fast sequence of metallic cracks rolled over them as the chain reaction swept back until they were thrown forward as the car hit and then were slammed backward as the airbags filled. Before the bags deflated, the two were pushed back once more as the car behind struck them.

"Are you okay?" he shouted as he turned to Daria and gently grasped her arm with his right hand. Her glasses were crooked on her face, which was a little red from the airbag fabric.

Dazed, she looked back and said, "I think so. You?"

"Yeah, I'm…" he said, reaching for his seat belt. When he tried to grab the buckle with his left hand, he felt a bone move in a way it shouldn't and pain flash up his arm. His voiced hissed and he said, "I think my hand's broken. It was right over the air bag."

Daria opened her seat belt and said, "Let me see." She looked at the bruised hand and carefully felt the back of it. "I think you're right."

"Help me get the ring off," he said.

"What?" Daria replied, looking at the ring she had given him to complement her engagement ring.

"If my hand starts swelling, they'll have to cut the ring off."

"But that could make your injury worse," Daria said.

"Only a little. Your ring is more important," he said, starting to slowly wiggle the ring from his finger. He ground his teeth tighter against the pain and abruptly let out his breath as it came free. "I'll put it back on as soon as I can."

"You'd better," Daria said.

Starting to become aware of things outside the car, Michael said, "That was close."

Daria also started to look around at the other cars and people starting to exit them. "Too close."

* * *

Walking away from the hospital and toward one of the "T" stations with his hand in a cast, Michael grumbled, "Broken hand, totaled car and a ticket. What a way to ruin the day. Stupid idiot cutting in front of me." 

"If you had backed off a second or two so you weren't following too close, you could've avoided the ticket and maybe even the accident," Daria said, a little tired of his complaining.

"You're saying that this is my fault?"

"Partially, yes. If you hadn't been in such a hurry and backed off, we could've avoided all this and been horseback riding."

Michael angrily said, "The guy cut me off!"

"Yes, he did," Daria said. "But you didn't have to stay that close to him."

"I'd have thought I'd get a little sympathy."

"I have been sympathetic," she replied, "but you also need to realize that we could've been seriously hurt or killed in that crash."

"I know that!" he yelled.

"Good," Daria shot back. "Now maybe you'll listen when I say that you need to let up on the aggressive driving."

"You sound like my mother."

"She's a smart woman, unlike the way her son is acting right now."

"I think we should just go home separately tonight," Michael suggested, a hurt tone in his voice.

Daria said, "Good idea. When you calm down, we can talk."

* * *

"So you had a big fight," Jane said to her roommates, all gathered in the living room. "The bigger the fight, the better the make-up sex." 

Karen threw a pillow at Jane. "I don't need to listen to that in stereo."

"And I'm not exactly feeling excited right now," Daria said.

Jane corrected, "You're supposed to be excited after you make up, silly."

"I don't care," Karen said. "I'm not getting any and I don't want to hear it."

"Heard anything more from Derek?" Daria asked.

Karen shook her head. "Not since the last time. He's out on some kind of mission."

"He can't be allowed to say things like that," Jane said.

"We worked out a little code before Derek left. Stuff that sounds innocent but lets him say more than they normally allow. A trick I learned from my grandmother," Karen answered.

Jane threw the pillow back at Karen. "Subversive."

"Guilty," Karen agreed. "So, Daria, what are you going to do about your addle-brained mate?"

"I'm going to wait for him to apologize," she said.

Jane said, "Getting tough, huh?"

"Michael promised to do better and didn't. It's time he ended this old rebellion against his parents. Besides, we really could've been killed. A couple of other people in that chain reaction were seriously hurt. It rattles me each time I think about it."

"He's the one with his hand in a cast," Karen said. "I'm sure he'll figure it out soon enough."

"I hope so. I don't like being angry at him."

Jane said, "But you still are."

* * *

Watching Michael rush from the door to his room, Lewis called to his roommate from the kitchen, "Another busy night?" 

Michael shed his work uniform, tossed it aside and changed into jeans and a t-shirt. He said, "I need to finish off that history project tonight. It's due the day after tomorrow."

"Are you going to call Daria and apologize?"

"She keeps her phone turned off at rehearsal, so I can't. If she doesn't want to talk, I can wait until it's a little more convenient."

"You still sound mad."

Michael came out of his room. "I know we could've been killed. God, I was the one driving and it scares the hell out of me every time I think about it. I didn't need to be lectured like I was clueless. I was still trying to wrap my head around what had happened."

Lewis tilted his head and replied, "I thought I'd dated some drama queens."

* * *

Clarice found Michael at one of the library computers. Feeling a pang of worry at seeing the cast, she asked, "What did you do to your hand?" 

He sighed and said, "Broke it while totaling my car. Daria and I were in a pileup yesterday."

"Is she all right?"

"Other than being mad about my driving, yes."

"Did you two have a fight?"

"Yeah, a real big one."

Gazing at his hand again, Clarice asked, "Did they have to cut your ring off?"

"No, I took it off," he explained.

"Oh."

Michael started pulling notes from his backpack. "I'd rather not talk about it. Let's get started."

She rolled a chair over to and sat next to him. "Um, okay."

Moving his chair aside, Michael held up his broken hand and asked, "Can you take over typing?"

"No problem."

* * *

When Daria came out of the dressing room after rehearsal, Wendy and Lorna, the play's producer, were waiting. Wendy said, "Daria, is anything wrong? You came off a little over the top and angry tonight." 

Daria rested against the wall and admitted, "Still annoyed at Michael. I was concentrating on the dialog so I wouldn't think about him. I guess it came through."

"Loud and clear," Lorna said.

"Sorry, I'll work on it tomorrow," Daria said.

Brian and one of the other actors came out of the men's dressing room. He looked at his watch and said, "It's really late. Would you like us to walk you out to your cars?"

"We'll be fine," Wendy said, reaching for Lorna's hand. "Daria, the boys have a good point: the parking lot isn't the safest place this late at night."

Daria looked at the two and said, "Thank you. It's nice to have someone worry about my safety and well-being."

As the other three left, Wendy let out a soft whistle. "Boy, is she still pissed."

"We could've walked out with them," Lorna said.

"Let Daria get a little attention. For a college junior, well, senior by her credit hours, she's still sheltered. Brian and Jerry won't go too far, but they will let her know that she's a smart, attractive woman that guys would like to meet. Give her a little more confidence for her role."

"Isn't that a little too much method acting?"

"Nah."

"If this all blows up, you know you're going to be partly responsible," Lorna said.

"I know. But I don't think it'll come to that."

* * *

Going through the parking lot, Brian said, "Daria, you looked really good during dress rehearsal tonight." 

"Thanks," she replied.

Laughing, Jerry said, "Yeah, I can see why Brian doesn't need any acting ability to look like he's being seduced by you."

While Daria was still looking at Jerry in surprise, Brian said, "No, but it takes acting ability to remember my lines at the same time."

Daria turned to him. "I hope you two are joking."

Brian held up his hands. "Apologies for our uncouth behavior. We only meant compliments."

"You have an odd way of complimenting someone."

Jerry said, "We're actors. What do you expect?"

"Daria, when you have parts like ours, we must completely trust each other," Brian said, "I give you my word that you can trust me."

Daria started to relax and resumed walking to her car. "Okay. I'm a little on edge tonight."

"But that doesn't preclude enjoying what we do," Brian said. They reached Daria's car and as she unlocked the door, he added, "And I will honestly tell you that I enjoy our time on stage, though that's all we will ever do."

Daria opened the door and sat in her car. "Thanks for walking me out, and Brian, um, thank you about what you said. Working with you isn't exactly torture, either."

* * *

Clarice got home that evening and prepared her room as if it were any other night. She opened her futon and made the bed and then changed into her nightshirt. She felt something different, something that she liked. The project was coming along without a hitch - she and Michael would have no problem with final edits the next night and turning it in the following morning. "Damn, I wish I could get him on more projects. I've never had one go so well." 

She took care of a few small tasks around the house, cleaning and putting away some dishes from breakfast, writing a couple small bills, and watering her single houseplant in the kitchen window. Done, she went to the bathroom to finish preparing for bed. Clarice looked in the mirror, remembering part of the night's conversation.

_"Did they have to cut your ring off?" _

"No, I took it off." 

She looked herself in the eyes and asked in a whisper, "Is it too much to wish?"

* * *

Pfc Derek Adler crawled onto his bunk, physically and mentally exhausted after sweeping a group of caves in the mountains. The rest of the squad followed suit, wordlessly shedding boots, gear and body armor before dropping into their racks, all still wearing their field-stained uniforms. 

It felt like he'd barely dropped off to sleep before a brusque push on his shoulder woke him up. He was about to issue a rude remark when he opened his eyes and found he was facing his platoon sergeant. He groggily sat up and said, "Sergeant?"

"Adler, the L-T agreed with my suggestion and is moving you into Collins' spot in your squad."

"Yes, sergeant," he automatically said while involuntarily eyeing the nearby empty bunk with all signs of its previous occupant gone before they'd returned. "Thank you."

"You're a good soldier and the man for the job." To the squad, the sergeant then said, "Carry on, and get some rest, you earned it. After that, get some showers and hot food," before striding out.

The other soldiers solemnly congratulated Derek, while also giving a nod to the empty bunk and their lost comrade. After a couple moments, their squad leader said, "You heard the sergeant; get some sleep."

Derek closed his eyes and thought of Karen, their friends, and the small things that can seem so important. Small things that helped balance his mind against the reality of war.

* * *

The pretty bartender placed a glass of soda in front of Daria and said, "I can tell you're not a regular around here if you're drinking the hard stuff. Do you really know these guys, or did you just pick them up off of the streets?" 

"I'm in a play with them," Daria replied. She nodded to Wendy seated nearby and added, "She corrupt…recruited me."

"Ah, Wendy's good at that, but what about the rest of this trash?"

Brian said, "Hey, that's trash with a capital 'T' to you."

"We had our first no-hitch full dress tonight. We kicked ass," Jerry said.

The bartender warned Daria, "Has anyone told you what these guys are like after they finish their regular beers and start on Carbombs?"

"No, but I can imagine," Daria said. "But I won't be around that long. I still have some studying to do tonight."

"Studying?" Wendy said. "Daria here has more brains that the rest of us put together."

Daria lifted her glass and took a sip. "Maybe because I haven't been killing my brain cells."

"You only kill the weak ones," Brian said. "Booze that doesn't kill us makes us smarter."

"Somehow, I don't think that Nietzsche would agree," Daria said, "although, alcohol would explain some of his ideas."

"Nice rock," the bartender said, pointing to Daria's ring. "Don't tell me you fell for one of them."

"No," Daria said.

The bartender teased, "Uh-huh. Does he know you're hanging around in bars with unrepentant theater bums?"

"Not directly, but he's busy tonight finishing up a class project. Hopefully, we'll see each other tomorrow," Daria said, her voice revealing sadness.

The bartender looked thoughtfully at Daria, examining her for information. "Hopefully? Is he one of those jealous guys that doesn't like his girlfriend in a play and you had a fight?"

"No, we had a different fight. I'd like to work things out tomorrow, if he'll apologize."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't even know you."

The bartender said, "True, but I'm a good listener. Comes with the territory."

* * *

**Darling, **

Finally got a chance to get back on the computer. I hope you haven't been too worried. I'm fine, though we did wonder about the mystery meat-like substance served in the chow hall. Our platoon sergeant said he'd seen better stuff come out of a C-ration can back in the old days. Otherwise, things here continue as always. Duty, eat, sleep, try to find something to do, even if the deck is short a card. We try not to let it bother us.

How are things back home? End of the semester getting as hectic as usual? How is Daria's play going? If you can send a DVD over, that would be great. We don't care if it's a far off-Broadway original, we'll watch it, and I bet Daria gets fan mail from some of the troops. Has Michael dug up anything interesting on the Trail? Oh, I just remembered, some more JPEGS of Jane's pictures would be great. These guys wouldn't know great art if it bit them on the ass, but her surreal works have become locally popular. I guess you have to be here to understand why.

I love you and think of you all the time. Please be well and I look forward to hearing from you.

Derek. 

Karen read the e-mail and whispered, "The deck is short a card." She paled and looked at Derek's picture on her computer desk. "I hope you don't lose any more."

* * *

After midnight, Clarice and Michael sat in a booth for two at the Buffet Raft, an all-night restaurant across the street from campus. Other students seeking food or coffee during their early-morning academic toil dotted the room, some reading, some taking notes and others focused on refueling. 

Clarice raised her soda glass and said, "To an 'A' project."

"To an 'A'," Michael said, tapping her glass with his to complete the toast.

"I hope we can do this again."

"Yeah, I've had fun," Michael said. "You've been a remarkable partner."

Clarice leaned forward over the table, the motion accenting her form under her tight shirt. "Do you mean that?"

"Yes."

"You're not so bad yourself."

Slightly embarrassed, Michael rested his arms on the edge of the table, his broken hand cradled on the other. "Um, thanks."

"When I came here as a freshman, I was hoping to meet people like you."

"And our friends Jack and Sean…"

"But you're different."

"Different?"

Clarice learned forward more. "Under that plain exterior, you're smart, warm and kind. Some of us like that."

He smiled and said, "Underneath your somewhat flashy exterior, you're a lot like that, too."

That brought a bright smile to her face. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Michael said, pleased at Clarice's smile and finding himself relaxed in her presence.

Clarice glanced down at Michael's left hand and saw that the ring was still missing. She looked up directly into his green eyes and felt that things couldn't be better. Still fixed on his eyes, she leaned forward the last couple of inches between them and brought her lips up to his.

At the barest touch of their lips, Michael whispered, "No, I…Daria." That caused Clarice to gasp, "Oh, my God," as she turned away in response. Both sat back heavily, staring as they tried to grasp what had happened.

Michael started to say, "Clarice, I'm…" but she held up her hand, stopping him.

Fighting back tears, she grabbed some cash from her purse and set it on the table. "This should cover me," she said, standing. "I've got to go."

Before Michael had a chance to say anything, Clarice was running away, crying. In the laid-back atmosphere of the eatery, her exit caused only a couple of customers to momentarily look before going back to their business.

Michael looked down at the crumpled bills and thought about a few moments before. _Now I know the meaning of temptation._

* * *

Rubbing her temples, Daria parked her black sedan behind her apartment. "How do people stand that much noise?" she asked to nobody in particular. Getting out, she continued, "Much less try to meet people. What a mess." 

Going up the stairs, she finally said, "The bartender was right; I need to talk to Michael. We need to settle things instead of letting them fester any more and maybe getting worse."

Inside, the apartment was dark, so Daria assumed her roommates were asleep. However, on entering the hallway, she saw a light under Karen's door. Daria knocked and said, "You're up awfully late."

"You're coming in awfully late. Hanging around in bars with your theater friends?" Karen said, trying to tease but betraying worry.

Stepping in, Daria saw Karen seated at her computer desk and said, "For a while, yes, and I don't see how they do it on a regular basis. Now, what has you so worried that you're up late?"

"I got an e-mail from Derek. One of the guys that went over with him is dead."

"You're worried about him." Daria moved next to her friend.

"Terrified. He's going to be over there for up to nine more months. What if something happens to him?"

Daria quietly said, "I don't know, but you're not alone."

Karen hugged Daria, softly crying.

* * *

Scratching his back, Lewis stepped out of his room the next morning and tried to focus on Michael, who was seated at the kitchen table. "You look like hell this morning. Not enough sleep?" 

"No sleep," Michael mumbled.

Going for the coffee pot, Lewis said, "That's not good."

"I need to see Daria first thing this morning. I decided staying up was better than setting my alarm early."

"I'm not going to ask," Lewis said. "But you look like you would've gotten drunk last night if you could've. You must've put your foot in it deeper or something."

"About neck deep."

"Early morning groveling?"

"Yep."

"Can't it wait a little while? Like, after you've gotten some sleep?"

"If there's one thing I've learned, it's not to withhold anything or try to decide what will be the best time for Daria to hear something. The sooner the better."

"That's going to take a few creative connections on the 'T' this early."

"I'll deal."

Noticing that Michael had the fingers of his left hand in a bowl of ice, Lewis asked, "Did you do something to your hand, on top of everything else?'

Taking his hand from the bowl, Michael said, "Trying to knock the swelling down so I can get my ring back on."

"Do you think that's a good idea?

Michael started to work the ring onto his finger. "It's something I have to do."

Watching, Lewis said, "That's got to hurt."

"No, my finger's numb from the ice."

* * *

Clad in undergarments and wading through her closet early in the morning, Karen called to her roommates when she heard the doorbell, "Is anyone dressed?" 

Jane yelled, "Not me, I just got out of the shower!"

Leaving her room wearing a bathrobe, Daria said, "I'm not exactly dressed, but I'm covered enough to get the door."

She checked the spyglass in the door and said, "Oh." Outside, Michael nervously waited in the sun's first rays. Daria unlocked the door and opened it. "Hi."

Hands in pockets, Michael said, "Hi. Can we talk?"

The young woman pulled the robe a little tighter and stepped outside with Michael on the landing. "I think that's a good idea. We've let this go on for too long."

Michael gently grasped Daria's hands, rather awkwardly with his left. "I apologize. I was impatient and did something stupid that could've been far worse. At least I was the only one who was hurt in the accident. I'm not going to make a promise this time; I have to earn that back. Instead, I'm asking you to help me drive better. Remind me when I get impatient or reckless. Don't let me slide."

"Apology accepted, and believe me, I won't let you slide," Daria said, feeling much better.

Michael massaged his thumbs on the back of Daria's hands. "Now for the hard part."

"Hard part?" she said, suddenly worried.

"After…we finished the project last night, Clarice and I went to the Buffet Raft to celebrate."

"I actually went to a bar with some of the others from the play last night. I don't see a problem."

"I'm sure you didn't kiss anyone."

"No, I…What?!" Daria exclaimed.

"Well, more like almost kissed, or barely kissed or…"

Angry and confused, Daria said, "Almost? Barely? Are you talking about Clarice?"

"Uh, yes. Look, it was only a moment and I stopped. She stopped. We both stopped. But…it happened."

"It happened? How did it happen?" Daria demanded, her eyes burning as she watched for his response.

"We stopped for a bite to eat and to celebrate finishing the project. We were relaxing and talking and suddenly, we were about to kiss. Daria, I thought about you right away and couldn't go through with it. I said no and Clarice backed away. Couple seconds later, she ran out."

"You stopped. You really stopped?"

"Yes. Daria, I love you. I couldn't…"

Daria nodded. "You stopped." She appeared to settle down slightly and said, "Okay, Michael, this is going to take me a little while to digest."

"I understand. I'm really sorry. This is a lot to deal with first thing in the morning, but I knew that I had to tell you and I knew that I couldn't try for a better time, because there wouldn't be one. I have to be honest with you."

Daria looked up into his eyes for a couple seconds, then closed hers and bowed her head as the events of four years ago came back. She whispered, "Tom."

"What?" Michael asked.

She slowly lifted her head as the anger melted away. "I said, 'Tom.' I was remembering when I first kissed him. Now I know how Jane felt."

"Oh, crap."

"Tom and I didn't stop; we kissed again. And then, I was the one that told Jane; he didn't." Still holding Michael's hands, Daria felt the ring. "You put it back on."

"I had to show where my heart lay."

Daria thought of how she and Jane were still close, despite what had happened with Tom. She also thought of a charming, tempting Air Force cadet at Amy's wedding, her polite refusal of his flirting and how well Michael reacted when she had told him later that night. Daria understood that she had succumbed to temptation and experienced forgiveness, but had also resisted temptation. Finally, she remembered Karen's fear for Derek the night before and Daria realized what to do. She released Michael's hands and wrapped her arms around his chest, holding tight. "I forgive you. But, we will never…ever let things go unsettled this long again."

Michael held her as tight and whispered, "Thank you."

"And from now on, I drive."

* * *

On his way out of class after turning in the final project, Michael was stopped by the professor. "Michael, where's your partner?" 

"I don't know," he replied.

"While it's only required for one of you to turn in the project, I normally expect everyone to be in the final class of the semester."

Trying to think of an excuse, Michael said, "Maybe she overslept. We were up fairly late polishing up a few last details."

"That's not like her," the professor said. "I hope she's okay."

"Me, too, sir."

* * *

At the theater's side entrance, Daria waited under a sign that read: 

**Boston's own Lorna Kayukova presents,  
A Premier Performance  
_The Window on the Bay_**

Behind her, Wendy asked, "He's not here, yet?"

"No, but he should be here soon. I trust Lewis to get him here on time."

"What about your other friends?"

"Karen, Jane and Mike are already seated."

Wendy said, "Too bad your folks couldn't make it."

"Friday's not a good night with Mom still getting back up to speed at work, but they will be here tomorrow in all their embarrassing parental glory."

"I can't wait. Well, I'm heading in to make sure everything's ready…one more time."

As Wendy left, Daria said, "I'll be a few more minutes."

A blonde figure stepped out of the shadows of the alley and said, "I'm sorry."

"Clarice?" Daria said.

The blonde looked tired and held her arms around her chest as if cold. "I'm sorry about what happened. I saw something that I wanted to be there, but wasn't. I didn't mean to hurt anybody."

Daria gave her a knowing, sad laugh. "You and Michael stopped. I was once in the same position and I didn't."

"Daria, I barely stopped, I wanted it so much. If it happened again, I don't know if I could. What does that make me?"

"Human."

"I don't feel that way. Daria, tell Michael that I'm dropping my summer classes. I…I might be able to deal with being in the same department with him this fall. By then, I hope it won't hurt so much."

"I'm sorry, too," Daria answered. "I don't think anyone wanted this to happen."

Clarice wiped her eyes and said, "I've got to go. Oh, and…break a leg," before hurrying away down the alley.

Daria was still looking down the alley when Michael arrived several minutes later, carrying a bouquet of opening night roses. "Break a leg?"

She turned and saw the flowers. Accepting them, she said, "That's sweet, thank you."

He saw that something was bothering her and said, "My pleasure, but, what's wrong?"

"Clarice stopped by to wish me the same thing." Daria swung her head to indicate the way the other woman had gone. "She left a couple minutes ago."

He swallowed hard and said, "Oh?"

"She apologized for hoping that something was there between you that wasn't."

"You don't seem mad."

"I'm not. I can't."

"Anything else?"

"She's going to stay away for the summer and hope things are better in the fall."

Sadly, he said, "I broke her heart, didn't I? I should've seen what was happening and stopped it before…"

Wendy reappeared and said, "Hey, you finally showed up. Nice flowers. Daria, better come in; we're at five minutes to show time and we have reviewers in the audience. Michael, better grab your seat."

Daria said, "Give us a second." After Wendy went back inside, she turned to Michael. "Her heart's broken, but it's not all your fault," Daria told him. "Clarice is also responsible."

"You're right, but that doesn't make me feel any better."

"That's because you have a conscience." Daria kissed Michael and said, "Thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful. I know you're going to think about this a lot. Try not to let it overwhelm you and I'll see you right after the show."

"Okay, I'll be here. I'll always be here," he answered.

Daria went inside, leaving Michael alone. He looked down the alley and said, "Daria's forgiven me. I hope I can forgive myself for hurting both of you."

* * *

Thanks to Louise Lobinske, Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan, Mr. Orange and Martin Pollard for beta reading. 

September-October 2007


	13. Latitudes

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2008.

This is the Sixty-first story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

****

Latitudes

In his apartment's living room, Michael was sprawled on the sofa, watching TV. Laughing at a joke, he pointed a bottle of beer at the screen and said, "Sometimes, I can't believe that they successfully sold _Guy TV_ to any network."

Seated on a recliner, Lewis took a drink from his beer and said, "Hey, it's niche marketing, just look at their 'Fathers of Invention' bits."

"Or the Girls Jumping on Beds' at the end of each episode."

Lewis snickered. "I bet the producers would die if they knew how many drag queens get ideas from that."

Michael drank some beer and said, "Now, that's what you call unintended consequences."

More contemplative, Lewis said, "You know, this is your last summer before finishing your undergrad. Got any plans?"

"Besides going back to my folks' for Gina's graduation next weekend? Not really. Daria's play finishes up this weekend, so we'll hit the cast party. Other than that, I guess I'm mostly going to work. Probably get a trip or two to Newtown, depending upon if we dig up anything interesting."

"No other trips planned?

Michael held up his hand, still pale from the recently removed cast. "I don't see how. Between trying to save up to replace my car, the co-pay on my hand and, well, paying for things most of the time Daria and I go out because she still doesn't have a job, I'm mostly tapped out."

"I'd hold off on the car then. If you think you're busy now, wait until you get into grad school."

"I'll see what I can do, but we'll have to work around Daria's schedule; she's still taking classes this summer."

Half-joking, Lewis said, "Doesn't she already have enough hours to graduate?"

"She is a double major who has taken a few extra classes. You could say that she can't get enough."

Lewis chuckled. "I'm not going to touch that one, except that maybe your ego's getting a little big."

"I walked into that one."

"Is she still student teaching?"

"Next week is her last. After things wrap up that Friday, we're flying to Detroit."

* * *

  
Surrounded by other celebrating cast members, Wendy put her arm around Daria's shoulders and said, "Now, aren't you glad I talked you into trying out?"

Daria flashed a faint smile and said, "It kept me off of the streets for a while."

"You just can't admit to having a good time, can you?"

Returning with two glasses filled with a blue-colored punch, Michael said, "It all depends on who is asking."

Daria looked at the drinks. "Do you think those things are safe?"

He shrugged, "Considering that they call it Code Blue', probably not, though they're drinking it anyway."

Daria accepted a glass and gently chided, "You're still not legal, you know."

"Hmm, so you like them young?" Wendy teased.

"Hey, I'm only a couple months shy," Michael said in his defense.

"Well, if both of you are drinking, make sure Lorna has your keys," Wendy said.

"I've already dropped mine off," Daria answered. "Michael's still on driving probation."

"That's good, I want everyone to get home safe or crash here."

"Did you have to use the word, crash'?" Michael said.

* * *

  
Looking over at Wendy and Lorna kissing, Daria leaned against Michael and slurred, "Aren't they cute?"

Equally intoxicated, he turned her face toward his with a finger and said, "Not as cute as you," before kissing her.

Brian, Daria's opposite during the play, walked between the couples and said, "Sheesh, people. Get a room. Or two."

Daria leaned against Michael and half-closed her eyes. "That might be a good idea; I'm in no condition to drive."

Brian stepped over to Wendy and cocked a thumb toward Daria. "I think someone's about to conk out."

Wendy broke her embrace with Lorna and looked. "Daria? How are you doing?"

"Fine," she answered, leaning more heavily against Michael - who was starting to lean back and seemed to be losing consciousness just as fast.

To Lorna and Brian, Wendy said, "Wanna give me a hand? We can put them in the spare room."

He said, "Why do they get the good bed?"

"First passed out, first served."

* * *

  
Daria groaned and kept her eyes tightly shut against her pounding headache. Trying to move, she discovered that she felt weak and achy all over. The only thing agreeable was Michael's arm around her waist. Hoping the light wasn't bright, Daria opened her eyes and looked into his face, half covered by the pillow and lightly snoring through his open mouth. "I probably looked just as bad a moment ago," she whispered and closed her eyes again at the pain. _Okay Morgendorffer, don't talk, think._ Daria watched him for a while and then touched his cheek. _Our first hangover together, how romantic. I guess if I can stand to look at you right now, it must be love._

Hearing quiet rustling, Daria gently rolled and looked around the room to get her bearings. _Good grief, we passed out at Wendy's place._ Moving slowly and carefully, Daria stood and shuffled to the door. Looking down, she noted, _I see that they weren't brave enough to take off my socks._ Following the sound, she opened the door and peeked out.

Lorna was in the living room dragging a plastic trash bag and picking up debris from the cast party. She looked up and quietly said, "Morning. What do you want first, aspirin or coffee?"

"Both."

"Good choice."

Lorna went to the kitchen and asked, "How do you like your coffee?"

"Milk and sugar," Daria said, making it to the sofa and sitting down.

Shortly after, Lorna returned with a mug that said, "Girls just know how to have fun," and two tablets. She placed them in Daria's hand and held the mug until Daria had popped the tablets into her mouth. When Daria reached for the mug, Lorna kept a steady hand around it until she was certain that the younger woman had a good grip.

Daria nodded in thanks and swallowed the pills with a sip of coffee. She stared blankly ahead for several minutes, slowly drinking her coffee while Lorna continued to clean. When someone else moaned, Daria realized that a couple of cast members were asleep or passed out on sleeping bags and inflatable mattresses along the edge of the room.

Wendy came out of her room and saw Daria. Having a little fun at her friend's expense, she said, "You sure can't hold your liquor and neither can your boyfriend."

"I'd appreciate a little telepathy if you can manage it," Daria said, holding a hand to her head. "Maybe it won't hurt as much."

Wendy took a seat next to her and said in a lower voice, "You're tough. You'll get over it."

"Tell me something. If this is the usual aftereffect of too much drinking, why do people keep doing it? Haven't they heard of negative reinforcement?"

Silently laughing, Wendy said, "I guess people figure that it's worth the pain."

"People are weird."

"We knew that," Michael said, leaning against the doorframe. "My theory is that alcohol makes people forget about their previous hangovers, so they don't think about the aftereffects."

Daria asked, "Michael. How are you feeling?"

"About as bad as I felt after Trent's bachelor party."

Daria carefully stood and went over, giving him a hug. "Misery loves company."

He said, "So that means you still love me?"

"Yes, it does."

* * *

  
As Daria got out of her car early that afternoon, she saw Jane's boyfriend, Mike MacKenzie, coming down the stairs. He saw her and gave a wave. "Hey, Daria. How was the cast party?"

"It was okayat least the part of it I saw. Michael and I kind of fell out early."

He laughed and said, "Good thing you weren't at a frat party or you might've woken up with a tattoo or something."

"I still can't picture you at a frat party," Daria said.

He shrugged. "It's part of the territory. Besides, I had plenty of experience keeping tabs on the old Lawndale football team."

"Good point, but I have to ask. Have you ended up with any tattoos?"

"I'll let you ask Jane," he said. "Anyway, I need to hit the road to get back to Vance. See you later, Daria."

"Later," she said, starting up the stairs.

Inside, Jane and Karen were waiting, with Jane tapping her foot. "It's about time you got home, young lady. What are we going to do with you after you're out all night partying?"

"I saw Mike leaving," Daria said. "You may have stayed up all night, but don't try to claim that you were waiting for me."

"She got you," Karen said. "Don't worry, Daria, I didn't wait up and slept like a baby. Well, once I put in earplugs."

Jane ignored Karen and continued to tap her foot. "Well?"

"Michael and I had a bit too much to drink and crashed early in Wendy's spare room. I know what's going through your mind. If there was any kind of wild orgy, we slept through it."

Jane grinned anyway. "You passed out at a party." She turned and hugged Karen. "Our little girl is growing up."

Daria smirked and said, "By the way, have you noticed any interesting tattoos on Mike? He said to ask you."

* * *

  
Walking along one of San Diego's beaches with Q, Quinn smiled when he suddenly stopped and squatted down to look at something on the ground. Noticing the small beetle that he was watching, she said, "You are such a cute little geek."

Q glanced up and said, "Guilty," before observing the insect scurry away. He stood and grasped her hand. "Shall we continue?"

Teasing, she said, "Yeah, we'd better go before you get distracted again," while glancing down at her bikini.

He kissed her cheek and playfully said, "I get the hint. It's all about you."

Quinn kissed him back and said in the same tone of voice, "And don't you forget it."

They continued to walk hand in hand along the shore, not really noticing the whirl of activity going on along the beach, nor the guys that stopped and looked before shaking their heads in frustration. Q said, "You know, I could get used to this."

"You mean walking along the beach with a pretty girl instead of chasing bugs in the sand?"

"No, I mean walking along the beach with you, and still getting to chase bugs in the sand."

"Quinn Gilstad, you're starting to sound like you're spoiled or something," she said.

"And if I am?"

"Hmm, I'll have to work on that."

He then asked, "Speaking of work, how's your new job with those image consultants working out?"

She sighed. "I'm shuffling papers more than anything else. Daria warned me that I'd be a small fish in a very big pond and I'd have to get through some grunt work before they'll notice me."

"I know the feeling," Q replied. "Still being the newest grad student in the lab means I get stuck with the same kind of stuff or worse, like cleaning the carrion beetle cages. I wish my professor would pick up another grad student so I can shuffle it off to them."

Quinn said, "Speaking of your professor, what else does he have you doing this summer?"

"Writing grant proposals. As my professor said, They're a fact of life. You might as well get used to it now.' Of course, bringing in more money to his lab is only a nice side benefit for him."

* * *

  
Hearing Jake yell, "Dammit!" following the clattering of cookware falling in the kitchen, Helen rolled her eyes with an amused sigh and grabbed her cane as she stood. Going down the stairs, she said, "Jake?"

"Stupid, miserable double boiler!" Jake yelled, seeming not yet to hear his wife.

At the stair bottom, she called louder, "Jake? Are you okay?"

"Oh, um, yeah, honey. I'm okay."

"Is the kitchen?" Helen asked as she continued to approach.

"It's just a little messy and, um, maybe sticky," Jake confessed.

"Sticky?" she asked, almost afraid to turn the corner.

When she did, Jake was standing to one side of the stove and a few wisps of steam rose from the floor in front of him. He looked down and said, "I was trying to melt chocolate to make some candies like those you get from Amy."

Shaking her head but smiling, she said, "Oh, Jakey, you don't have to do that."

"But I like to," he replied.

"Okay," Helen said. Still staying at the edge of the kitchen, she then asked, "Do I want to see it?"

Jake gazed down at the floor. "No, not really, honey."

She came around the counter anyway. "We'd better get it cleaned up before the chocolate hardens and we have to scrape it off of the floor tiles."

"I can get it."

"I want to help."

Helen pulled some paper towels loose from a roll on the counter and eased herself down to start sopping the mixed water and chocolate from the kitchen floor. Jake grabbed more and joined her in cleaning the mess. Side by side, they worked together. Seeing the upper pot of the double boiler, she tasted some of the chocolate remaining. "Hmm, this is good."

"Too bad I spilled it all," Jake mumbled.

Smearing a little more of the warm candy on her lips, Helen turned to him and seductively said, "I think you missed a spot."

* * *

  
"Mom, Dad, it's good to be home," Jodie Landon said, hugging her parents. Stepping between them, she then hugged her sister. "Hi, Rachel. How are you?"

"I'm good," the sixteen year old said. "Keeping my grades up. But I'm warning you, I am not going to Turner or to Crestmore when I graduate. I need a break from hearing about you."

"I don't blame you, though Crestmore is working my tail off and I'm mostly just another student. It's giving me a nice sense of perspective." Jodie then squatted down and hugged her little brother. "Evan."

"Jodie!" he called and hugged her back.

Michelle said, "He's doing great in his preschool," while looking aside toward her husband.

Andrew shuffled a little under his wife's gaze and said, "Jodie, just another student?"

"Yeah, Dad. Crestmore is full of overachievers and compared to them, I'm one of the pack."

He smiled at her. "Ah, I see. Some serious competition for a change. It'll be good for you."

"I suppose, but I'm glad to be back in Lawndale."

Andrew asked, "Are you still planning on working with Jake Morgendorffer again this summer?"

Jodie nodded an affirmative. "Effectively, I'm almost a partner and I get to work directly with real clients." She grinned at her father. "Experience all those other Crestmore students can only wish for while they file papers for their high-profile internships."

He nodded and put an arm around Michelle. "That's our girl."

* * *

  
Daria walked along the rows of eighth grade students, returning papers. "Overall, I'm very pleased with your final essays. They are a big improvement over what you wrote at the beginning of the semester." Done, she stepped over to her desk and turned to face the class. "Since those essays were your final exam, the rest of the class period is free time."

The students let out a cheer, which prompted Daria to hold up her hand and say, "As long as you keep the noise level down."

The students became quieter, but continued to talk among themselves and start to move around. Daria walked around the desk and took a seat to watch the class and make a final check of her grade book.

Sensing someone standing next to her, she said, "Did you want something, Kevin?"

"Ms. Morgendorffer, I, um, learned a lot from you. You made things fun."

Daria felt a pleasant warmth inside. "Thank you, Kevin. You've made a lot of progress and you have the good grades to show it."

"Too bad you won't be teaching at my high school next year."

"I'm sorry, but I still have classes I have to attend, too. But that doesn't give you an excuse to slack off. You know you can do the work and I expect you to keep it up."

"Yes, ma'am," he said before going back to his seat.

A girl came up and Daria said, "Yes, Kath?"

She twirled her hair on one finger, reminding Daria of Brittany from high school, though the child in front of her was very different from the cheerleader. Kath said, "I really liked reading _Animal Farm._ Is there anything like that I can read this summer?"

"I could tell you, but you also know how to use a library. I think you can find more books like that on your own. The search is half the fun."

"Like shopping," the girl cheerfully said.

"You could look at it that way. And with Boston's public libraries, you have a lot to find."

"I'm going to ask my mom to take me there tomorrow. Hey, maybe you can go there, too."

"I'm sorry, Kath," Daria said. "But I'll be in Detroit tomorrow. You have my e-mail. Maybe we can set up another time."

"Okay!"

* * *

  
After the students had filed out of the room, Daria's mentor teacher, Mr. Lambert, stepped into the room, silently clapping. "Congratulations, Daria. I'll happily recommend an A' for your grade this semester. You're good in front of a class."

"Having a good class helps. I know you don't want to scare off potential teachers by throwing them to the dogs while they're still interns."

He folded his arms over his chest and smirked. "True. We wait until you're on the payroll."

"Something to remember while I'm waiting for my first book to sell," Daria replied in kind.

"All kidding aside, you have a talent for teaching. I hope you find some outlet so it doesn't go unused."

"Um, thanks. I'm planning on grad school, so becoming a professor isn't out of the question, though the job market for English and other Liberal Arts majors is the pits."

"I'm glad to hear that you're being realistic."

"My aunt's a professor at Tennyson and has given me a full run-down on the situation."

"It's always good to get inside information." He picked up the grade book and glanced at the pages. "Everything looks in order. You might need to come back for a bit of paperwork, but otherwise, you're done."

"And there was much rejoicing."

He chuckled and said, "I hate to run you off, but my next class should be arriving in a minute or two. Have a good summer, Daria. And please, consider finding some way to teach."

"Thanks, andI will," she said, stepping toward the door as children started to wander in.

* * *

  
Leaving the school building, Daria saw Jane's custom painted car and headed straight for it. Before she got there, Michael got out of the front passenger door to greet Daria. "How did it go?"

"I passed and so did the munchkins," Daria said, giving him a kiss.

From the driver's seat, Jane said, "Come on and get in. They shifted lanes again around the Big Dig and traffic on the way to the airport is going to suck."

"Okay, okay," Daria said, "I'm getting in." She climbed into the back seat while Michael closed the front door and climbed into the back after her.

Jane grinned at them and said, "It's a good thing I like you, Morgendorffer. Now please, try to keep your clothes on. This isn't a limo."

Daria looked at Michael. "Damn. I guess we'll just have to wait until we're on the plane."

"Hmm," he said, giving her a sly smile. "That would make a good story when we're old and gray."

Starting the car and driving through the school parking lot, Jane looked in the rear-view mirror and said, "You two finally get interested in an extracurricular activity together and it's the Mile High Club. It's a good thing you two are out of town this weekend. Mack has a fraternity trip and we can't be together, so Karen and I are going out on the town. We wouldn't want to disturb you when we got home."

* * *

  
Finding them at the baggage claim, Samantha Fulton said, "Michael! Daria! I'm so glad to see you!" as she wormed through other passengers and their greeters to hug the couple. When she stepped back, Samantha said, "Come on, Gina's excited to see you, too."

Picking up his suitcase from the carousel, Michael said, "Yeah, it'll be good to see Gina, too. I've kinda missed the little brat. Although, it's hard to say little' anymore with her graduating."

Daria, already holding her luggage, said, "So Gina's a big brat like my sister; we like them anyway."

"Some things never change," Samantha said. "Daria, how is your mother doing?"

"Very good. Her voice is almost back to full and she's back to work. She still needs a cane and it frustrates her that she can't power walk anymore, but she's finding other things to keep in shape."

"It looks like you're doing a good job of that too, Daria. You've lost some weight and it looks good. Now if I can only do the same."

"Thanks, Samantha. I wish you luck."

"Daria, I'm going to need more than luck."

* * *

  
"Goofball!" Gina screamed, coming down the stairs.

"Hey, Brat," he said, waiting for his sister. "You finally made it, huh?"

Lightly punching his arm, Gina said, "One down, one to go," she said. "Berlioz College, here I come."

"Michael told me you were accepted into the Conservatory," Daria said with a touch of awe in her voice. "Impressive."

"Can you believe it?" Gina replied, her joy showing clearly. "They really liked my singing voice."

Michael said, "That's one thing you always did better than me. Congratulations."

His father walked in and said, "Welcome home, son. Daria, a pleasure to see you again, too. Gina, can I have a word with them for a second?"

"Uh, sure, Daddy," the younger girl said. "I think I'll go call Natalie to confirm our plans for tomorrow night."

"Go on," Ron said. After Gina had gone upstairs and Samantha had entered the house, he said, "I didn't want her to tease you. Daria, will we need to open the sofa bed" he took a deep breath, "or will you be staying with Michael?"

Daria clasped Michael's hand as she said, "We'll stay together, thanks."

"I know the wedding is still a year away, but you've made a real commitment together. We'll respect that," Samantha said.

* * *

  
Standing beside him in her nightgown and looking at Michael's single bed, Daria smirked and said, "This is going to be cozy."

Running his hand along her bare shoulder, he said, "Whenever we sleep together, we tend to only use that much space anyway."

She turned to face him and slipped her arms around his chest. "We are spoiled that way."

Michael held her for several moments before saying, "Shall we?"

Daria nodded and stepped with him to the bed. The squeak of bedsprings as they sat down caused her to say, "I know that there's one thing we won't be doingat least when anybody else is home."

Laying down and pulling the sheets over them, Michael spooned against Daria and whispered, "But we can always do this."

Closing her eyes and holding her arms over his, she said, "As much as you want."

* * *

  
Pounding on the door late the next morning, followed by Gina shouting, "Come on, wake up! I don't want to be late," woke Daria and Michael the next morning.

He groggily said, "It's not until one o'clock, relax."

"It's 11:30, Goofball!" she replied.

Daria mumbled, "Hmm, maybe we should get out of bed." Snuggling her face against his chest, she added, "Though I really don't want to."

"Do I have to come in there with a bucket of water?" Gina called.

Michael held Daria close and said, "You're dead meat if you do. We'll be out in a few minutes."

"Little sisters," Daria said. "It's a wonder that we haven't killed them."

* * *

  
"Hello, sleepyheads," Samantha said as the couple came downstairs. "Gina just left to get lined up for the procession. We can go in my car after you've had a quick breakfast."

Michael scratched his side and said, "So all of that was a parting shot. I should've known."

Daria nudged him. "Hey, at least you don't have to get up on stage like I did at Quinn's."

"Point taken," he said. "Mom, you said breakfast."

"There's some French toast in the kitchen that you can heat in the microwave. If we can leave within half an hour, we should be able to get good seats."

"Gotcha, Mom," Michael said. "Daria?"

"Lead on. French toast sounds good to me."

While they were eating, Michael's parents returned and sat at the table. Ron asked, "How's your hand doing?"

Michael flexed the fingers of his left hand, saying, "Better. A little stiff for a couple days after the cast came off, but otherwise fully functional."

"I hope you learned a lesson from that little accident," Samantha said, her voice both warmly concerned but still nagging.

"Mom, that could've been one of the biggest mistakes of my life," Michael said. "I learned several lessons."

Daria reached for his hand. "Don't feel bad. I've had to learn some of those lessons the hard way, too."

Ron snickered and said, "We're all in the same boat." He glanced at his wife briefly before going on, "I'm not at liberty to discuss the details, but, I've been there too, son."

"Oh, so it's genetic," Michael said. "Figures."

* * *

  
Sitting with their arms around each other in the stands of his old high school's football stadium while Gina's class valedictorian droned on, Michael leaned his head toward Daria and said, "God, these speeches always sound alike. What do they do, have a universal graduation cue card?"

Daria whispered back, "It's something in the air that sucks all the realism out of your brain and replaces it with heart-warming optimism."

"Oh yeah, you got stuck giving one of those speeches."

"Two," Daria corrected. "One for mine and one for Quinn's."

"Oh, that's right. You did the second one not long after my first real screw-up. You know, I'm starting to detect a worrisome pattern here."

"True, but we don't have any more siblings that will be graduating from high school."

"Which means I can't blame my next one on some cosmic alignment of high school graduations with my foot in my mouth."

Daria gave him a quick, sidelong glance. "Then don't have another one."

"Does that mean it's your turn?"

Daria faintly snorted a laugh and said, "Probably."

As the valedictorian stepped away from the podium, Daria motioned toward two young men climbing the steps. "Looks like those two decided to skip the boring speeches and just show up to see the long, dull line."

Michael let out a soft groan and said, "That's two people I could've gone my whole life without ever seeing again."

"Oh?"

"I went to school with them. We didn't exactly get along."

"Ah, I see."

When the two neared, Michael politely nodded in their direction, but didn't say anything. After they walked past, one said to the other, "Damn, those seduction CDs they sell on the Internet must really work. Did you see that chick with Fulton?"

"Eh, he must've paid her," the other said. "Nobody that hot would be interested in him."

Her ears burning, Daria lifted her free hand and turned Michael's face to hers, slowly and deeply kissing him while letting one eye watch the stunned looks on the other men's faces.

The first said, "Dude, even we don't have that kind of cash."

Following Daria's idea, Michael took her hand and slowly kissed it before holding it and his over her heart while he moved up to softly kiss her lips.

"He didn't learn that off of some CD," the second said.

Behind the two young men, someone grumbled, "Hey, sit down, you dumb punks. We can't see through you."

After the two hurried away and found a seat higher in the bleachers, Michael said, "I love the way you think."

She smiled back at him. "I was only protecting your reputation."

"My Boudicca."

* * *

  
Arm in arm with her best friend Natalie, Gina appeared from the edge of the crowd and waved. "Mom, Dad, over here!"

Ron and Samantha, followed by Daria and Michael, changed directions and hurried over to the teens. Ron held his camera up and said, "Hold still."

Both grinning, Gina and Natalie posed and waited for the flash to fade. Gina said, "Well, we really made it. Official and everything."

"Officialonce we pick up our real diplomas and not the just the empty holder they gave us," Natalie said. "Just to make sure someone didn't use a joy buzzer on the old Wonder Weasel or something."

Michael sniggered. "Wonder Weasel. Some things never change."

Daria asked, "Principal?"

"Yeah. He can weasel his way out of anything. Too bad you didn't go to our high school, Daria. Maybe you could've done him in the way you did in yours."

Natalie exclaimed, "You got rid of your high school principal? That is so cool."

"I only had a part in it and risked a lot less than the girl that really got the ball rolling."

"It's still cool."

Daria said, "I did what I thought was right. I heard that Gina is going to Berlioz College. What are your plans?"

"Not as fancy," Natalie said. "I'll get my AA from the local community college and then transfer to U of M. That is, unless I can hook my mom up with some rich guy in the next couple of months."

"At least you'll be close," Daria said. "Sometimes, I wish I was a lot closer to my parents. I miss them more than I expected."

* * *

  
After the ceremony, Daria and Michael returned to the Fulton home with his parents. Seated on the sofa with Michael, Daria asked, "Did you go on a graduation trip with your class like Gina and Natalie?"

He shook his head. "No, I felt about as much attachment to my class as you did. I stayed home and went to work with Dad for the summer."

On one of the recliners, Samantha said, "What about you, Daria? Did you go on a trip?"

"No," she replied. "I didn't feel much attachment to most of my classmates, either."

"Oh. Anyway, it sounds like Gina is going to have fun."

"Are you planning any trips this summer?" Ron asked.

"No," Michael said. "Between everything that's going on, we really won't have a chance."

Daria said, "I still haven't found a job. The trust fund from my grandmother covers all my college costs and basic expenses, but not things like vacation trips."

"And it will take me a while to save for another car," Michael said.

"We understand and thanks for coming out for Gina's graduation. It means a lot to her, even if she doesn't say it," Samantha said.

"I do miss the little brat," Michael said. "I'm really happy she got into the program she wanted. She was always a better singer than I was."

"Daria, you told me a little at the airport, anything more on how well your mother is doing?" Samantha said, shifting the topic.

"Still making progress and holding up working full-time, though she's not putting in the extra hours any more. Acting more like a partner,' as Mom put it."

"Your dad?"

"His business is still doing well, though Dad still scares a client off now and then. I think my parents have finally settled down into a comfortable life without Quinn and me in the house."

Samantha looked sadly at Ron. "Maybe we can call Helen and Jake for a few pointers for dealing with an empty house."

"Or invite them to visit. I can set up the grill," Ron said.

Samantha gave him a glare. "You and Jake are not allowed near a grill at the same time."

"Honey"

"Never. It's simply too dangerous for anyone with a hundred yard blast radius."

Daria smirked and said, "Wise woman."

"Speaking of families getting together," Samantha said as she turned her attention back to Michael and Daria. "What kind of wedding plans have you made?"

"Not much since it's still a year away," Daria said, manner-of-factly.

"We're not going for anything big or complicated," Michael said. "We figure Quinn and Gina can take care of that for their weddings."

Samantha sighed. "I should be grateful because Gina hasideas."

"I've never heard anything specific out of Quinn, but I know her and things will have to be just perfect," Daria said in agreement.

"But this should be a special day for you, Daria," Samantha said.

"We want it to be special," Daria replied. "So we're not focusing on the material part."

Ron asked, "Have you thought about what kind of ceremony you'll have or who will officiate?"

Daria looked at Michael and after a second, he said, "We've discussed it, but haven't decided. Daria leans toward writing our own ceremony, like her parents."

She promised, "Except, a little lessSixtiesthan they used."

Michael said, "While I think it still would feel right to have a minister and something a little closer to conventional."

"If Trent and Lindy could do something conventional, I suppose that I could go along with some conventionality," Daria said, before adding, "As a compromise."

"I'm sure Rev. Wilks would be happy to officiate, if you asked." After a pause, Samantha inquired, "Daria, how much have you discussed things with Helen?"

"We haven't," she said.

Samantha looked honestly surprised and said, "Oh. In that case, I better stop right here." Joking, she added, "Unless you're planning on getting married and telling everyone after the fact."

"It would make things easier," Michael said. "But we want our families and friends to be there with us."

Daria nodded and said with a knowing smile, "Just not too many of them."

* * *

  
Relaxing as much as permitted by the airliner seat, Daria rested her head on Michael's shoulder and sighed. "You know that these interrogations about our wedding are only going to become more frequent. Especially from my mom."

"And your sister," Michael said, gently stroking the side of her face. "But we'll survive and have something we both want. The day is for us, not them."

"Once we figure out what we want."

"Yeah," he said with a faint laugh. "Are you open to bribery?"

With a gentle laugh in return, Daria said, "My mother's a lawyer; what do you think?"

"So it's going to be expensive. I'd better start saving my pennies."

Daria kissed his cheek and whispered, "It doesn't have to be cash"

* * *

  
Karen lifted the photo from her printer and studied the image of Derek's face. It was tanned and ruddy from windburn, with a couple days of beard growth and dark glasses perched on it. His smile touched her as always and she smiled back at the picture. "You know how to get me every time."

The printer continued on the next image in the queue and Karen waited patiently, hand ready to take it from the tray. She was glad to see that the next one was sans the sunglasses, allowing her to see his eyes. Her smile slowly faded as she looked deeper and saw the changes there. Nothing physical, but something very real that told Karen that Derek would not be the same when he returned.

There was a short commotion at the front door and Karen heard Jane say, "Come on, Daria, I'm disappointed in you."

"Jane, have you really noticed just how cramped the restrooms on airliners are?" Daria replied, humorously exasperated by her friend.

"I was thinking cozy."

Karen set the photos aside and stood before walking to her door as Daria and Jane reached the hallway.

Daria said, "Considering how many people use those bathrooms on a flight, I prefer to come in contact with as little of the walls or surfaces as possible. Tell you what. When I become rich, I'll charter a private plane and have a morehygienic experience."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Jane said.

"Hey, how was your trip?" Karen said.

"There's a reason that they call them discount airlines," Daria said. "When _my_ legs feel cramped, you know that they have too many seats crammed into too small of a space."

"Okay, the flights sucked. What about the rest?"

"Michael's parents got their first round of wedding questions out of the way. The graduation went about like most others. I met a couple of Michael's former classmates and they were as big of asses as he claimed. Gina's grown and I think she's going to do fine. She took off for a graduation trip with her friend and I only got to really see her Friday night."

Karen listened and said, "I bet you ate well while you were there, too."

"I can't complain. Samantha is an excellent cook, and Ron's not so badas long as you keep him away from open flames."

Going to her room, Jane said, "Well, are you ready for another exciting Monday tomorrow?"

Daria sighed. "Exciting, yeah. Aren't all Mondays?"

* * *

  
Lindy sat across the booth from Helen at The Settlement and said, "Thanks for listening. Amanda might be the kindest soul I've ever known, but you're the one who's been able to give me realistic advice."

"I'm only giving back," Helen replied with a thankful smile. "For everything you and Trent did for us after my stroke."

Lindy smiled and sipped from her cup of tea. "What goes around, comes around. Quinn helped me get and stay sober."

"So, how is Trent holding up?"

"He's still excited. Oh, did I tell you that Trent already bought a toy guitar for our son?"

"I'm not surprised."

The younger woman closed her eyes and fought down a wave of nausea. "I'll be glad when the morning sickness finally goes away."

"I hear you, though I never understood why they called it morning' when it hit at all parts of the day. At least for me, it was easier with Quinn. I only felt it for about two months."

"Let me see if I survive one before I start making plans for a second."

Helen's cell phone rang and she said, "Excuse me," before answering it. "Hello." She rolled her eyes, causing Lindy to knowingly smirk. Helen inhaled and said, "Conrad, that's why we buy the _West Law_ CDs every year, so that associates don't get hernias looking up the legal code. The printed copies are there to impress the clients. I'll run you through the relevant sections when I get back from lunch." She checked her watch and finished the conversation with, "Which will be about ten minutes. Good-bye."

"At least it wasn't that Eric guy," Lindy said.

"No, it was just another associate that needed a Monday afternoon hand-holding." Helen held up her hand and politely told the waitress, "Check, please."

* * *

  
A portly man with a fringe of grey hair entered Morgendorffer Consulting and looked around. Seeing Jodie at the desk, he said, "Ms. Landon, good to see you back. Is Jake available?"

She smiled and picked up the phone, punching buttons to ring in Jake's office. When he answered, she said, "Mr. Gavril is here to see you. Okay, I'll send him in." Jodie hung up the phone and said, "He's available."

The man nodded and went into the office. "Jake, how are you doing?"

Jake stood and shook his visitor's offered hand. "Very good, and how are you?"

"Great! Our bookings from the mid-Atlantic states are way up, thanks in no small part to you. The _Caribbean Star_ and the _Caribbean Queen_ both broke passenger records this last spring."

"That's what I'm here for," Jake cheerfully replied.

Mr. Gavril reached inside his suit coat and removed a stack of tickets from within. "As a little token of our appreciation, how would you like to take your family on one of our 7-day cruises? I have a block of three ocean view and three adjacent interior cabins with your name on it for the first August trip."

Flabbergasted, Jake sputtered, "Wow!"

"Celebration Cruises takes care of those that take care of us. Have fun, Jake. Oh, and the tickets are non-refundable," Mr. Gavril said.

Jake accepted the tickets, still looking down at them. "Helen's going to love this!"

"That's the idea. Anyway, thanks again for the great marketing campaign. Have a good day."

Jake looked up as his guest started to turn. "Oh, yeah. Hey, you have a great day, too!"

Mr. Gavril smiled to Jodie on his way out while Jake followed. After the door closed, she said, "Good news?"

"Great news! He just gave me six cruise tickets as a bonus for last year's campaign."

"That's so cool," Jodie said. "Have a good time."

Jake separated the tickets and said, "You did as much work on the Celebration Cruises account as I did and my family will only need three tickets."

Jodie pondered a moment and then shook her head. "Someone needs to hold down the fort while you're gone. I bet Daria and Quinn have some friends they'd like to invite."

"Don't you want to go?"

"It's tempting, but you deserve a break with your family and this will probably be your last chance to do something together. I don't want to intrude. Besides, I'm also thinking about how this will look on my resume. Jake, you know I can handle the business for a week. Give me a chance."

"Okay, Jodie. But are you going to get away for a vacation?"

She smirked. "Don't worry; I have something planned for the week before I go back to Crestmore."

* * *

  
"Why does Jake have the garage open?" Helen asked herself as she pulled into the driveway. Part amused and part fearful of what she might encounter, she left the SUV and walked over to where Jake was pulling their SCUBA equipment free from the accumulated clutter. "Jake, what are you doing?"

"Hey, just pulling out our diving gear," he cheerfully answered.

"Is there any particular reason why?"

Jake brushed the dust from his clothes and took the tickets from his shirt pocket. "I thought we could take a refresher course before finally going on a Caribbean cruise."

"Jake!" Helen exclaimed. "Don't you think you should talk to me before spending a bunch of money on a cruise!?"

"Honey, I didn't spend any money," Jake said in his defense while stepping back.

With as much sarcasm as her daughter, Helen said, "Oh, someone just gave them to you."

"Mr. Gavril from Celebration Cruises."

Caught by surprise, Helen calmed and said, "What was that?"

"He gave me the tickets as a bonus for how well their marketing campaign has worked. Six cabins on the _Caribbean Star_ in August. The girls can have their own rooms and still invite some friends. What do you say? A last chance to have a family vacation."

Helen threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, Jakey, that sounds wonderful!"

"You won't have any problems getting time off from work?"

"It's about time I took time off for a vacation and not for illness. The firm won't fall apart if I'm gone for a week." Helen seductively smiled and ran a fingertip along Jake's jaw line. "I think somebody deserves a reward for his hard work."

* * *

  
Relaxing on the sofa while Trent massaged her feet, Lindy said into the phone, "That is so sweet, Helen, but I don't know about sea sickness on top of morning sickness. I'll ask Trent." She moved her free hand over the microphone and said, "The Morgendorffers have some tickets to a 7-day cruise in August. Do you want to go?"

Trent slowly turned his head. "I dunno. You've gotta be on a boat, right?"

"Yes," Lindy patiently said.

"Don't like boats, just can't get on them. Long story."

"Kinda like the reason you can't go into bookstores?"

"Nahit's a bit more complicated."

Back to Helen, Lindy said, "We'll have to pass, but thanks for the offer."

She replied, "I understand. I can't think of anyone else to invite that wouldn't result in jealousy among other friends and such, so we'll let Daria and Quinn have the space for their friends, providing they can share a room."

* * *

  
Eyes closed, Quinn almost purred as she let the music's melody guide hers and Q's slow dance around her living room. Within his arms, she felt a contentment that allowed her to live for the moment and forget about school and work. She laid her cheek against his chest to enjoy the most romantic point of the song when her cell phone started to ring with her mother's ringtone. Still inwardly worried about Helen's health, Quinn sighed and said, "I better get this."

Q nodded and took a small step back to let Quinn reach the phone in her pocket. Opening it, she said, "Hi Mom, how are you?"

"I'm fine," her mother said. "In fact, I have some good news for you."

"Oh, and what's that?"

"We're finally going on that cruise we had to cancel a couple of years ago."

"Um, wow, Mom. Really?"

"Yes. Your father got six tickets from one of his business contacts. We'll have one stateroom, Daria one and you will have one." Helen hesitated a moment before saying, "If you wish, your boyfriend Quinn can share your room and you can invite three more friends, as long as one doesn't mind sharing with one of Daria's friends."

Quinn partially turned away from Q and quietly asked, "Will you really go on the trip, or will another case come up and you have to cancel like before?"

Helen stopped and for a moment listened to a song on a Jimmy Buffett CD which Amy had given her playing in the background,

_You need a holiday  
take a holiday  
find a far off wonderland  
where you might regain command  
of your life today_

Helen closed her eyes and said, "I won't cancel. I can't."

Quinn inhaled a bit, surprised at the utter sincerity in her mother's voice. "Okay. Where are we going?"

"The Bahamas, St. Thomas, San Juan and Grand Turk Island."

"When?"

"Early August."

Quinn moved the phone away and asked, "How would you like a cruise to the Bahamas, St. Thomas, San Juan and Grand Turk Island in August?"

"I'd love to go!" he said.

"We're in," Quinn said. "I'll ask Fran, Tammy and Grace when they get home later."

"I'm really looking forward to this," Helen said.

"Who did Daria invite? I mean, besides Michael and Jane?"

"I haven't got through to her yet," Helen said. "She must be busy. I'll try again in a little while."

* * *

  
"Meow!" Bump called from the top of the dresser while casting an eye at Daria and Michael, spooned together on the bed under the sheet. Without her glasses, Daria squinted while looking over and saying, "Everyone's a critic."

Michael kissed Daria's shoulder and very softly ran his fingers along her spine, making her gasp with joy as he said, "I'm certainly not complaining."

She half-turned to kiss him. "Nor me."

"Meow!"

Daria looked back at Bump and said, "Or somebody wants out to use the litter box. That's an argument I don't want to lose." With an, "Excuse me," she slid from under the sheet and stood as Bump stirred and gracefully leapt to the floor and walked to the door.

Michael allowed his head to rest on the pillow while watching her hide behind the door while letting the cat out. Also without his glasses, her nude form was blurred to him, but still a wondrously captivating vision. Closing the door, Daria turned and as she walked back to the bed, she said, "You're watching again."

"Mmmm," he quietly agreed. "I can't help it."

She sat and ran her fingers along his chest. "I like what I see, too."

The ringing of the cell phone made Daria sigh and look at it. Holding the display close to read her mother's number, she said to Michael, "It's my mom. Hold that thought." She opened the phone and said, "Hello."

"Daria," Helen said. "I've been trying to reach you all day; you must've been busy."

"You could say that."

Michael crawled up behind Daria and started to kiss the back of her neck, forcing her to swallow hard to suppress a gasp.

Helen said, "Your father has tickets for a one-week Caribbean cruise this August. How would you and Michael, plus three more friends, like to come with us? Think of it as a last chance for a family vacation."

"It sounds good, but since you're mostly back up to your old speed, can you get away from work?"

Weary, Helen asked, "Have I been that predictable?"

"Sorry, Mom, old habits." Holding back another cry of pleasure as he started planting soft kisses down her spine, Daria said, "If my outlook has changed, so can yours." Reluctantly twisting around, she asked, "How about a cruise around your birthday?"

"For little ol' me?" he asked.

"Among others," she replied.

"I think it'll be cool."

Daria went back to the phone. "We're in. I'll ask Jane and Karen later, and probably Mike."

"Mike?"

"You remember Mack from high school? He uses his given name now. Only Jane can still get away with calling him Mack."

"Oh, yes. I remember him. He used to date Jodie."

"That's him. What about Quinn?"

"She's bringing Quinn."

Daria smirked to herself and said, "That still sounds so weird."

"Plus her suitemates, Fran, Tammy and Grace," Helen said, completing the list.

"Mom," Daria said. "This could be a very interesting trip."

"I hope so, sweetie."

* * *

  
Standing beneath a sign that said, "SCUBA Lessons," at the front of a small building, Helen said, "I hope this one hasn't heard about your little incident the last time we took lessons. It's the last dive shop in the area."

"Helen," Jake said, "It was the chlorine poisoning."

"Jake, you panicked and beat up an ex-Navy SEAL while yelling about your father."

"But the instructor said it had to be"

"I looked it up online and chlorine doesn't do that to someone. The instructor didn't want to admit that a middle-aged office worker got the better of him in front of the entire class. Anyway, let's hope that they haven't heard about it. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

* * *

  
On the sofa with her legs stretched out on the floor, Tammy used a remote to fast-forward through commercials on a videotape. "Quinn, you have got the coolest parents. Too bad I didn't know you in high school."

In the kitchen cutting some straws, Quinn said, "Trust me, they didn't have time back then. This is kind of a makeup for the cruise they had to cancel five years ago."

Sideways on the recliner, Grace said, "Whatever, I'll take it. A cruise is a cruise. Sun, umbrella drinks, hot and cold running cabana boys. We're going to be in heaven."

Lying on the floor and reading a romance novel, Fran said, "It's going to be kind of cool to finally meet your sister, though I'm glad both of you are taken."

"Yeah," Tammy said. "Leaves more guys for the rest of us."

Holding three straws in her hand, Quinn entered the living room. "Okay, time to pick who stays with one of Daria's friends." She went around to each and let them pick a straw. "Okay, let's see them.

Holding her short straw, Fran said, "It looks like me. I hope I don't regret this."

* * *

  
Jane looked over Karen's shoulder at an e-mail and said, "Okay, I had to talk my boyfriend into going and yours had to talk you into going." Half-joking, she added, "Wanna trade?"

Karen glanced at the ring on her finger. "Nice offer, but no thanks. I'll keep mine. It'll still feel strange going and having fun while Derek'swhere he is. Someone else in his platoon was wounded and sent home last week."

"All the more reason for him to want a vicarious vacation with you. Have fun; it'll do you and him good."

"I know, it's just that I miss him so much," Karen said. "You'll be with Mike and Daria will have Michael while I get to share a room with one of Quinn's friends. No offense to her, but it'll be a little weird."

"I'm a little surprised that Quinn didn't ask any of her old friends from high school."

"They probably drifted apart. It happens a lot. I saw a couple people from high school when I want back home the last couple summers, but I don't really miss them that much. They've moved on and I've moved on."

Jane shrugged. "I guess. I didn't have a whole lot of friends from high school to drift away from, so my viewpoint's a little different."

"Yeah, you're dating one of them. Well, when he can get away from his fraternity duties."

"It means a lot to him, but"

"But you wish it didn't get in the way so often. Trust me, I know the feeling. I thought Derek being gone one weekend a month was bad enough."

"Yeah, I guess I don't really have room to talk, sorry."

"Okay, so we both go on the cruise and have fun," Karen said. "Now, how do we convince Daria and Michael to do more than sit on a deck chair and read?"

"We'll need a cunning plan."

* * *

  
Leaving the dive shop, Jake said, "I'm sorry, honey."

Helen shook her head and squeezed his hand. "It's not your fault that I had a stroke. I should've thought of checking before we started looking for a refresher course to make sure it was safe for me. We'll have to content ourselves with snorkeling instead."

"It won't be the same," Jake sadly said. "We lost the chance to scuba dive together. We'll never know what it would've been like."

"We've lost too many chances." Her voice becoming firmer, Helen said, "We can't let any more get away from us."

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know, but we'll think of something. Until then, we'll have to find other things to do on the cruise."

* * *

  
A smile spread on Daria's face as she read a new e-mail.

**Dear Ms. Morgendorffer,  
Your manuscript, _Musings on the Head of a Pin_, has been provisionally accepted for publication, pending revision. In the attached archive file, please find your manuscript with editorial recommendations included as tracked changes, standard publishing agreement and publishing contract. Please review the recommended changes and submit your revised manuscript and/or rebuttal within 30 days. Please print and sign the publishing agreements and return by mail within 30 days.  
Thank you for your submission and for selecting _New England Stories._**

"Six rejections in a row and I finally got another bite." Her attention was drawn to motion at her bedroom door, where her roommates seemed to be impatiently waiting for something. Daria said, "Okay, what's the lynch mob up to today?"

"Swimwear shopping," Jane said. "There's safety in numbers."

"I have one," Daria said.

"Have you tried it on lately?" Karen asked.

"No. What's your point?"

"Humor us," Jane said.

Daria looked back at the computer monitor and said, "I just received some good news, so I will. Now get out so that I can change."

Smirking, Jane said, "We'll be waiting in the living room."

Shaking her head in good humor, Daria dug through a dresser drawer and located her one-piece swimsuit. "I don't see anything wrong with you, but what the heck, it'll amuse the crowd."

She quickly changed and said, "Huh?" The blue fabric was loose around her waist and across her shoulders. "I remember this being tighter than that." Looking in her small mirror, Daria gently dope-slapped herself and said, "I've lost the weight that I'd gained as a freshman. Dammit, I will need a new suit, and there is safety in numbers"

A couple minutes later, Daria, back in a pair of jeans and a pullover shirt, stepped out of her room and said, "Okay, you windammit."

* * *

  
Staring at a yellow bikini with a green sarong displayed on a rail-thin mannequin, Daria said, "If you ignore the almost completely transparent wrap, there's more fabric in one of my socks."

"Yeah, but you're still looking at it," Jane said. "A big change from the first time I drug your ass to the beach."

Looking through a rack with black and white bikinis, Karen said, "This time, she has someone she wants to see her."

Still looking, Daria said, "I was surprised at howminimal it is."

"Try it on," Jane said. "Karen's right. Michael would love to see you in that."

"And don't try to say you haven't bought things for that reason," Karen pointedly added. "We've seen some of the nightwear you have for when Michael stays."

"That's in private," Daria said. "This would be for public consumption. Besides, you're one to talk. Jane, don't say a word, you're even worse."

"Hush, you. Michael would love to be seen with you wearing that." Jane held up a bikini made from a bright, abstract print. "Just like Mack will love to see me wearing this."

Pulling a hanger from the rack, Karen said, "Finally, something in my size."

"Derek wants a picture, doesn't he?" Jane teased.

Karen shrugged. "So we're all showing off for a guy. Come on, Daria. You won't know if it fits if you don't try it on. They don't bite."

"Yeah, both of us have already tried a couple each. Your turn," Jane said, grabbing one of Daria's arms while Karen grabbed the other.

Daria reluctantly let herself be corralled into a dressing room while her roommates took the rooms to each side.

Stripping down to her underwear, Daria thought, _I can't believe I'm trying this on._ Tentatively, she pulled the briefs up and fastened the top in place. _They're right, Michael would like this._ With one of her faint smiles, Daria posed a couple times and found herself oddly satisfied with the look.

A couple of minutes later, Daria joined her friends, saying, "Okay, I'll take it. Can we get out of here now?"

"I'm good, mine fits," Karen said.

"Mine, too. Jane then smirked and said, "You know, we need to be fair about this and pick up some appropriate swimwear for our guys. We can't let them get away with long, baggy surfer shorts."

"It's a great idea for you two, but I don't get any benefit," Karen said.

"Mail it to Derek," Jane suggested. "He can send a photo back and you can look at it on the cruise."

"I'd prefer if he kept his Kevlar vest on instead," Karen said.

"Hmm, good point," Jane admitted. "Maybe I'll have to find something for Mack on my own."

"Sounds good," Daria said. "Now, if there are no bright ideas, I really would like to buy this and escape."

* * *

  
Back at home, Karen stepped into Jane's room wearing a victorious grin. "Told you it would work."

"Yeah, and I really should've known," Jane said. "I bet you and Michael could talk Daria into getting her belly button pierced and this time, she'd keep it."

"I'd pay good money to see that," Karen said with a snicker.

"You and me both."

* * *

  
In a beachwear store the size of a small supermarket, Fran looked in confusion at what Quinn was carrying. "I thought you said that vertical lines would make me look even thinner."

Spreading out a one-piece suit with a red and blue pattern of strategically placed contours, Quinn explained, "The pattern will nicely accent your natural curves. Trust me and try it on."

"Okay, I'll try it," Fran said and she took the garment and stepped into a fitting room.

A couple of minutes later, she stepped out wearing the suit and looking mildly surprised. The pattern did enhance the natural curves on the slightly built woman. "This looks great, thanks Quinn."

"My pleasure," she said. "I want my friends to be happy."

Fran ducked back into the fitting room and returned shortly back in her regular clothes. "Let's get this and then head over to the food court for some lunch; I'm starving and I'm buying."

"As long as you let me get mine at Saintly Salads."

"Okay, but don't say anything about me going to Lasagna Hut. I really need some carbs."

Quinn sighed. "Deal."

Curious, Fran asked, "What is it with you and lasagna?"

"A long, long story."

* * *

  
From the sofa, Lewis threw a wad of notepaper at Michael while saying, "Dude, you're asking for my advice?"

Leaning against the wall, Michael swatted the paper away. "You'll give me less crap than the rest of my friends."

"What does that say about the rest of your friends?"

"That they need a hobbyor something."

"No, they need to get laid. Okay, Daria bought a new swimsuit and she's going to look real good wearing it. Therefore, you're considering somethinga little more flattering than the dorky swim trunks you've had for the last couple years."

"Correct."

"Then go pick up some Speedos or whatever and pack them along with your old trunks. The worst that could happen is she won't let you leave the cabin wearing the Speedos."

"Or I chicken out and won't leave the cabin."

"You'll be on a ship with a bunch of strangers. Outside of Daria's family and friends, nobody will know who you are or remember you a day later."

"But those who do know me"

"As long as her folks don't freak out on you, I think the rest will go along fine. Daria's roommates seem like good people and if her sister is anything like Daria, you don't have anything to worry about."

Michael nodded. "Thanks."

"But I'm not helping you shop for a pair. You're on your own."

* * *

  
Helen followed her doctor into an examination room. The slightly younger woman gestured to a chair and said, "Please have a seat, Helen," while bringing a rolling chair over for herself.

Helen sat and asked, "Dr. Hunter, why did you call me in? Do you have some word on the cause of my stroke?"

"Possibly," Dr. Hunter said. "There's been some important new information just released from the Women's Health Initiative. The hormone replacement therapy you've been using has been associated with an increased risk for cardiovascular events, including strokes."

"Are you saying the hormone replacement may have caused the stroke?"

"We can't say for certain, but you had no other strong risk factors for one. Now, whether the hormone replacement caused your stroke or not, there's too much of an elevated risk of a second stroke for you to continue the therapy. Most women are only on it for a couple of years anyway, so, it may not be that stressful to stop."

"What am I going to do?"

"I want you to continue the exercises to protect your heart. If necessary, there are some non-hormone prescriptions available for your hot flashes, but I'd rather hold off and see how well you can live with them for now. I have alternatives, including some dietary changes, for osteoporosis prevention."

"I really hate hot flashes."

"I'm not going to be happy about them either when it's my turn," Dr. Hunter said sympathetically. "Let's wait about four weeks and then see how you are feeling before we make any more decisions."

"Dr. Hunter, I'll be on a cruise in four weeks."

"Oh, good for you, though I'm also jealous. Where are you going?"

"To the Caribbean for seven days. The entire family."

"Enjoy it while you can. You can return in five weeks."

Helen took her planner book from her briefcase, opened it and made a note. "Five weeks."

"You can set up the time with the receptionist up front."

* * *

  
Quinn, Fran and Grace gathered around Tammy's computer while she brought up the website for the _Caribbean Star._

Grace was the first to speak. "Whoa, that ship's big."

"Four pools, five restaurants, three nightclubs, a full theater, a casino, and a spa. Damn," Tammy said, reading from the description. "We are definitely going to have fun."

"What do the cabins look like?" Fran asked.

Grace clicked through a couple links to show the inboard cabin. "Hey, these are pretty nice. They have twin beds that can be pushed together for a king-sized. We won't need that feature, but Quinn, you might. Private bathroom, nice closet, lots of drawers and a cool vanity."

Quinn said, "Oh my God, there's a huge TV in there. Who would go on a cruise and want to watch TV?"

Thinking somewhat practically, Tammy said, "Well, if you're in bed seasick, I suppose it's more interesting than staring at the wall."

"Ewww," Fran said. "I don't want to think about that."

"And here's the oceanview cabins," Grace said, loading a new webpage. "It looks to be about the same, only you get a window. I was kinda expecting a porthole; I guess things have gone high tech since the _Titanic._"

"Don't even talk like that," Quinn said. "I don't want to hit an iceberg or a garbage barge."

Fran asked, "Garbage barge? Is that another one of your long stories?"

"Yeah," Tammy said. "I thought your sister was the writer."

* * *

  
Protectively petting Bump, Daria said, "Are you positive that she won't be used as a teaching aid'?"

Leaning over the back of the sofa next to Daria, Karen said, "Yes, I'm positive. You can board Bump at the Vet School for half the price you'll pay anywhere else."

"Yeah, and what's the catch? Her shots and spaying were done by a student; that's why I got a price break then."

"And that student was supervised by one of the professors. Look, the Vet School has extra boarding space for those odd times when things get really busy. When it's not, the school can generate a little extra revenue with boarding fees. Considering how bored the vet techs get, she might come back with a catnip habit, but with how much Raft charges for tuition, anything that helps keep that down is good in my book."

"Did you hear that?" Daria said to the purring feline. "You'll be helping starving students throughout Raft afford college. But then, if I don't find a job, next fall, I might be one of them. And no, I'm not going to keep you in catnip."

"Hey, at least you sold that story last month," Karen said. "That has to help some."

"Yeah, it paid for my plane ticket to Florida for the cruise. I know that if push comes to shove, I can ask Mom and Dad for help, but I've really gotten used to being independent."

"You still have that college fund from your grandma."

"Yeah, that'll keep me in school and a roof over my head."

"Nothing to sneeze at."

"True, but let's face it, I've gotten spoiled and want to keep it that way. They say that a little poverty builds character, but all in all, I'd rather avoid that kind of character building."

"Trust me, it's over-rated," Karen said. "I'm glad that the switch to organic is still paying off for my folks or I'd still be scratching for money like I did as a freshman."

Daria paused in thought before saying, "Things really have changed since then, haven't they?"

Karen chuckled. "Yeah, they really have."

* * *

  
Jodie rose from her work desk and went to Jake's office. She said, "Are you ready for the big cruise?"

Straightening his desk for the fifth time that afternoon, Jake said, "You bet! What about you, are you ready for the big responsibility?"

Jodie nodded. "I'm ready."

"Not a bit nervous?"

"Well, maybe a little."

"Heh, I remember how nervous I was when I started. I wondered if I'd get any clients. Everyone at my old work said I was nuts to go into business for myself. Jake, you'll be bankrupt in two months.' He won't even last that long.' You'll come crawling back by the end of the year!'"

Hearing the familiar tone of an impending rant, Jodie said, "Um, Mr. Morgendorffercruise."

"What? Oh, yeah. The cruise. Hey, tell you what, I think I'll sneak out a little early today."

"Sounds good, Mr. Morgendorffer. Have a great trip and say, Hi,' to Daria, Jane and Mack for me."

"I will!" Jake called as he hurried out of the door.

Jodie smiled, shaking her head as she stood and went to Jake's desk. "I knew you'd forget," she said, shutting down his computer. "At least you don't leave porn on your desktop like Congressman Sacks."

Back to her desk, Jodie pulled up the account program, saying, "I'm so glad Jake listened and replaced that old clunky software with something usable."

As Jodie checked through the Accounts Receivable, she half-smiled as a thought came to mind. She quickened her pace to complete her review and then started going through more details of the company finances. "That might work."

* * *

  
**Hey, good news. I'll get a week of what passes for R&R in Afghanistan while you're on the cruise. They promise that they'll have new games for our Gameboys. I hope so, we've about played out all the ones we've got.  
Speaking of cruises, make sure you send a complete report when you get back. It's not Vegas, but I bet someone will cut loose and do something very embarrassing and highly amusing.  
At least I'm past the halfway mark on my deployment. I can't wait to get home and back to you.  
Love, Derek.**

Shutting down her computer, Karen breathed a small sigh of relief. "Thank God I won't have to worry about him being on patrol."

"Are you ready in there?" Jane yelled from near the front door.

"Don't get your thong in a wad!" Karen called back. "I'll be right out."

Picking up her suitcases, Karen rushed out to the living room, where Jane, Daria, Michael and Mike were waiting. The two guys took a suitcase each from her while Michael said, "We've taken the rest downstairs already. We didn't want you to feel left out."

"Thanks," Karen said. "Let's go."

Trailing the young women going down the stairs, Mike whispered to Michael. "Hmm, I wonder if Karen was right about the thong."

"If she was, I don't want to know about it," Michael whispered in response.

Mike snickered and said, "Daria in one would probably blow your mind."

"I would certainly be surprised," Michael said. "It's really not her style."

"True," Mike agreed. Near the bottom of the stairs, he said, "At least I talked Jane out of buying me a Speedo. That would've been scary."

* * *

  
"I hate airports." Turning to glance at the hand-holding couple behind her at the San Diego terminal, Fran said, "What are you smiling about?"

"Just remembering how we met," Quinn said.

"I'd have thought you'd be terrified with Q doing the meet the parents' bit for a whole week," Tammy said, following the couple.

"I'll admit to being nervous," Q replied. "If I make a mistake, I could end up sleeping on a deck chair."

"You're going to be fine," Quinn said, reassuring. "If Mom and Dad can accept Daria's geeky boyfriend, they'll accept you."

"So, you're saying I'm a geek?"

"Yeah, but a cute one."

"I hope he doesn't bring work with him," Grace said. Noticing the darting glace Quinn gave Q, she added, "He is."

Defensive, Q replied, "How can I pass up on a chance to collect in Puerto Rico or the islands? There are some really cool beetles I can't find otherwise."

"Okay, Quinn, where did he hide the net?" Fran asked.

"Camera only," she answered. "There are limits."

"That's good, and at least he doesn't collect roaches," Tammy said. "The cruise line might get upset about him bringing them on board."

"There are some interesting Blattodea in the Caribbean" Q said, teasing. "But out of a sense of self-preservation, I'll pass on collecting any and stick with beetles and maybe one or two other things that might be interesting, if I had the option."

"Like butterflies?"

"Maybethough Quinn keeps calling spreading boards miniature torture racks."

"That's what my sister called them," Quinn said.

Q shook his head. "Come to think of it, I don't want to think about how the cleaning staff might react to one, either. Good thing mine's at home."

* * *

  
"You don't have to do that," Helen said to Lindy as the younger woman carried a suitcase down the stairs for her.

"No, but I don't mind, and don't tell me that you didn't do the same things when you were in my condition. The exercise is good for me."

"Except I was carrying law books," Helen said with a light laugh. "You win."

"Don't worry. Once I'm a few more months along, I'll take whatever help I can get," Lindy said as she reached the base of the stairs.

"You are a wise woman."

"I have a good example."

Helen stopped and said, "Thanks, Lindy, but I've missed a lot of my girls' lives. That's why this cruise is so important. Don't make the same mistake."

Lindy gently smirked and said, "Trent's good practice."

"I thought that about Jake, but things really changed. We changed, and not always for the best."

The bark of a car braking sharply in the driveway made both women pause before Helen said, "Jake's home."

"You get frequent service discounts on brakes for his car, right?"

"We should."

Jake yanked the door open and almost ran into Lindy. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know you were there. Hey! I can get those bags."

"Sure, Jake," she said, handing over the luggage. While he was gone, Lindy said to Helen, "I figure it'll help him burn off some energy so that he's not bouncing off the walls of the airliner."

"Until I can get a couple drinks into him," Helen said. "Then he'll be fine."

* * *

  
The cruise line shuttle bus pulled to a stop next to the ship terminal and the driver immediately opened the door before facing the passengers. "Here we are, Port Canaveral. Please step outside and I will retrieve your luggage for you. Courtesy staff are available to take your luggage if you so desire."

Stretching, Daria was the first to rise and exit the bus. "I can't believe someone built a highway like that through the middle of nowhere."

"I guess someone wanted a straight shot from the airport to Kennedy Space Center," Michael speculated as he followed his fiance.

"Whoa," Karen said as she stepped off. "This feels almost like home in August; hot and humid."

"You're not kidding," Jane said in agreement. "But the sea air smells good."

"I could grow to like this," Mike said as he exited the bus. "I was surprised you could see the Vehicle Assembly Building from the highway."

"Man, I wish we'd thought of getting here early to make a side trip to the space center," Michael said.

Daria opened her cell phone and pushed one of the speed dial buttons. After a couple moments, she said, "Hey, Quinn, it's Daria. We just arrived at the passenger drop-off, where are you?" Daria tilted her head back and nodded along as she listened. After listening to a long explanation, she said, "Got it. As soon as we round up our luggage, we'll meet you inside."

Jane said, "Good, it sounds like we have a base camp."

Daria closed and pocketed her phone. "Quinn and her friends are in front of a big water fountain inside. She says we can't miss it."

The driver was quick and soon porters had their luggage loaded onto carts and were following the friends inside the terminal. After only a modest wait at the check-in counter, their tickets were validated and the luggage was on its way to their staterooms.

Quinn waved and called, "Over here!" to get Daria's attention.

She waved back and said to her friends, "Are we ready for the meeting of matter and antimatter?"

As they walked, Karen said. "They don't look that dangerous. And hey, the girl with the really long, dark hair is actually shorter than you are, Daria."

"She must be Fran," Daria said. "That's who'll be sharing your room."

"Better lay off the short jokes, then," Karen replied.

Jane said, "The guy's cute. I figured Quinn would snag a beach boy."

"Should I be worried?" Mack jokingly said.

"You're safe," Jane said. "If Quinn has latched onto someone, she'll have some serious claws out if anyone tries to get in the way. I'm not that brave or stupid."

Near the center of the large lobby, Quinn and her guests waited by a large, multi-tiered and illuminated water fountain. At first sight of Daria and her friends, Q said in a mock documentary voice, "Oh look, a herd of college students approaches. You can identify them by their careful mix of casual, yet distinctive clothing that attempts to make some statement. The proportion of mated pairs present in the herd is indicative of the more domestic variety of the upper classman cohort."

"He's going to get a job on _The Animal Channel_ someday, isn't he?" Tammy said.

"I wouldn't turn it down," he said in return.

Quinn ran and hugged her sister once she was within a dozen feet, saying "Hi, sis!"

Daria returned the gesture with a bit more decorum and said, "Hi to you, sis."

Quinn bounced away and started introductions. "Everybody, this is Quinn, but everyone calls him Q to avoid" she paused to giggle "confusion. This is Fran, and she's Grace and she's Tammy."

"Hi," Daria said. "That means it's my turn. This is my fianc Michael. This is Karen, and there's Jane and finally Mike. Jane can get away with calling him Mack, but she's the only one who can."

Karen stepped forward and offered a handshake to Fran. "I guess we better find out if we can tolerate each other."

Fran shrugged and shook Karen's hand. "If one Morgendorffer sister is like the other, I don't think we'll have any big problems."

"Good point."

As their mutual friends started to talk, Quinn said, "Wow, Daria. You really look good."

Holding out her arms, Daria said, "Quinn, I'm wearing shorts and a cheap t-shirt. Has your fashion sense been turned off?"

"No Daria, you look really good and that combination shows it off. If you'd been like that in high schoolmy popularity would've been at stake."

"Quinn, I" Daria stopped herself and said, "thanks."

"I know that wasn't what you were trying for," Quinn said. "But it looks good on you."

Fran stepped over to Daria. "I finally get a chance to thank you in person."

"From what I remember, Quinn and your sorority sisters did the work. All I did was come up with the idea."

"Yeah, but it was an idea that we needed."

"Okay, you're welcome. Glad I could help a friend of my sister."

Michael said to Q, "Daria and I will be making the plunge into grad school in another year. Any advice?"

Q laughed and said, "Make sure you're really pigheaded stubborn. It's the only way to get through."

"I've learned to be stubborn about what's important."

"Oh, and make sure you don't pick an ass as your advisor. Talk to the other grad students in the department before you make any commitments."

"Hmm, we'll keep that in mind."

* * *

  
About an hour later, Jake and Helen arrived at the cruise terminal. Seeing her parents in loud, tropical print shirts and shorts that simply screamed "tourist", Quinn sighed and said to Daria, "I can't believe they're wearing that."

"You know, I almost agree with you," Daria said. "But hey, Mom and Dad are trying to have fun and relax. Let them be; they've earned it."

"Oh, you're right. But I'm also glad it's a big boat."

"Girls," Helen said and hugged both at the same time. "Both of you are so beautiful."

"Hey girls," Jake also said, taking his turn embracing his children. "Do your parents look tacky enough?" he said with a friendly wink.

"You've got the whole tacky tourist' look down pat," Quinn said.

Helen moved on to Michael and gave him a gentle hug. "It's good to see you, too."

"Thanks, Mrs. Morgendorffer. It looks like you're doing well after everything."

"Mostly," she said, still aware of the slight, persistent slur in her voice. She tapped her cane and said, "Though I'm still working on this.

Daria noticed and was inwardly glad that her mother seemed to be relying on the cane far less than before. Now, it was almost an accessory more than a necessity.

Quinn pulled her boyfriend forward and said, "Mom, Dad. This is Quinn. You can call him Q.

He held up one hand and waved. "Hi there."

"Hey there, my man," Jake enthusiastically said, offering his hand. When Q accepted, Jake gave him a good-natured slap on the arm. "Good to finally meet you."

"Yes," Helen said. "I'm very pleased to meet you, young man."

Q shook her hand and was startled for a moment by her glance. He knew instantly that there would be no mercy if he ever harmed Quinn. "Happy to meet you, Mrs. Morgendorffer."

"Now that everyone is here," Daria said. "Why don't we finally find our cabins and get settled? Maybe we can meet up again when the ship is ready to depart."

"Lead on!" Jake said. "Anchors aweigh!"

Quinn rested her head on Q's arm. "Did he just say what I thought he said?"

* * *

  
"This has a cozy feel like that bed and breakfast where we spent spring break our junior year," Michael said. He picked up a small stack of clothes from his suitcase and transferred them to a drawer.

Resting on the bed, Daria said, "That was nice. I hope we can go back there some day."

"What do you think of your sister's boyfriend? He seems okay to me."

"I think he's good for Quinn. She's a lot better than she was in high school, but she's still a little flighty and it looks like he balances that. Kind of like how you balance my tendency to put off dealing with my feelings."

"Only because I reach the point of either dealing with my feelings or letting my head explode before you do."

"Your head isn't as thick as mine."

"I thought it was because I was more desperate," he joked. "There are times I still can't believe that someone as smart and beautiful as you would give me a second glance, let alone agree to marry me."

"Even if you had to ask me twice?"

"So it takes me a while to get it right."

With Quinn's recent compliment in mind, Daria cautiously said, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Michael replied. "Any time."

"This is a little hard for me and I know this seems like it's coming out of nowhere. From our first date, you've said I was beautiful."

"You are."

"It's taken me a long time to really accept that."

"But that's not what you want to ask."

"What ifwould you have asked me out the first time if I wasn't attractive?"

Michael inhaled as he wrestled with a "If I don't answer this right, I'm dead meat," feeling that made his stomach lurch. He knew that the simple truth was the only way out. "I'd like to think so. Your answers in that biology class are what got my attention. Smart, witty, and not afraid to question the professor. There were plenty of pretty girls around Raft, but you were the one that stood out. What made you stand out is who you are. The fact that you are beautiful was a wonderful bonus."

Daria rolled off of the bed and went over to embrace Michael. "So, that was a good save?" he said gently.

"Very good." Daria then sighed and buried her face against him. "God, I just realized how much I sounded like Quinn of a couple years ago."

"I promise not to tell anyone. Now, it's your turn. Would you have gone out with me if I wasn't so goofy looking?"

She softly smiled back at him. "Your sincerity had a lot to do with it, but you have a cute kind of goofy that's hard to resist."

Daria noticed the Speedo in Michael's suitcase and picked it up with two fingers while raising an eyebrow at him. "Have you been listening to suggestions from Jane?"

"Huh? Jane? No. I, uh, thought you'd like the, um, moral support since you bought a two-piece swimsuit. You know, uh, share the exposure."

"My new one shows more than the old but it's not thisbrief. Certainly not something I'd like to see in public."

Embarrassed, Michael said, "Okay, time for Plan B," as he lifted his older swim trunks from the suitcase.

"Backup plans; I knew there was a reason I liked you."

He reached for the Speedo and said. "Might as well just leave those in the suitcase and toss them when I get home."

Daria moved it away from his hand, rose up to kiss his cheek and whispered, "I didn't say anything about not seeing it in private."

* * *

  
Quinn's back stiffened when she heard Q say, "Do you want me to push the beds together or not?"

_We can't put this decision off any longer_, she thought. Quinn turned away from the window and looked at him, waiting expectantly beside the far bed. It would be very easy for her to say to keep the beds apart and avoid the subject of close intimacy once again. Growing stronger in her mind was the feeling of how much she enjoyed being held by him and how much she enjoyed holding him in return. The memory of sleeping against his shoulder while his arm held her close during the flight to Florida rose in her mind. The comfort she felt let her say, "Together."

He nodded and pushed on the bed and it rolled toward the other on a track until a catch clicked into place to secure it. "The guidebook said that there are king-sized linens in the overhead vanity. Can you get them while I pull these off?"

Feeling a little dazed by her decision, Quinn shook her head and said, "Oh, sure. Just a moment."

* * *

  
Answering a knock on the door, Daria barely had time to say, "I'll be right back," to Michael before Quinn pulled her into the hallway.

She said, "Daria, I'm nervous."

Confused, Daria asked, "About what?"

"Q sleeping in the same cabin with me."

"You don't need my approval and Mom and Dad are cool with it. It's not like they weren't sleeping together at your age."

Quinn's lip quivered slightly and she said, "But we haven't."

"Oh," Daria said, catching on to her sister's concern. "No offense, but isn't this something you should be talking to Mom about?"

"I feel better talking to you."

"Um, I'll do what I can."

"Daria, um, how long before you and Michael?"

"Well, we slept together on a pair of lounge chairs pushed together when we were stuck at Jane's dorm by a winter storm, but all we did was sleep. That was about five months after we started dating. It was a year before we, well, you know. I can see why you're nervous. Tell me, do you trust him? I mean, completely trust him?"

"Yes, that's why I invited him."

"Quinn, you know more about boys' tricks than I'll even consider knowing. If you trust him, then I think you're going to be fine."

"Daria, sometimes I put off deciding things too long."

"That's something we share."

"And so, I don't have any, uh, protection with me."

"Oh."

"I mean, I really like being with him and this whole cruise thing is going to be so romanticnot that I'm really planning anything, but you never know."

"Trust me, I understand. These cruise lines use sex to sell their trips. Therefore, I'm sure that the ship's pharmacy is well stocked with many different products."

Feeling very young and insecure, Quinn said, "Will you come with me?"

"Sure, sis. Just a moment." Daria poked her head back inside the stateroom and told Michael, "Quinn and I need to take care of something. I'll be back in a little while."

"Okay, I'll be here," he said. "Think I'll grab a shower while you're gone."

Daria nodded and closed the door. "Let's go."

Walking down the passageway, Quinn said, "Thanks, Daria. Do you have any more advice?"

"Redundancy is a good thing."

* * *

  
With a satisfied hum, Daria settled onto a deck chair on the ship's fantail and adjusted her large, white hat to shade her face and upper body. Her sunglasses reflected sunlight that glittered off the gently rippled ocean as the ship headed southeast toward the Bahamas. The music of the calypso band near the swimming pool just forward of them pleasantly added to the cool sea breeze. Two tall glasses of iced lemonade rested on a small table between her chair and Michael's. He nodded and handed her a book. "Comfortable?"

She opened the book at a bookmark. "Very. When someone makes holodecks, I want this as a program."

"I could go with that," he said, opening a book himself.

Still reading, Daria reached over the table and grasped Michael's hand. He kissed it and went back to his book.

A chapter and a half later, Daria heard Quinn say, "Put you on a cruise and you still manage to read."

The whisper of teasing in her sister's voice told Daria not to take the comment seriously. "We decided to stake out a spot on the stern early, just in case the ship hits an iceberg or a garbage barge and sinks."

Seeing Daria's attire, Quinn said, "You picked that swimsuit out yourself, didn't you?"

"Is there a problem?" Daria asked.

"With your pale skin, yellow really isn't the best"

"Hey, I like it and Michael likes it."

Quinn shrugged. "In that case, I guess I can't say anything."

From next to Michael, Helen said, "Hi Daria, hi, Michael. How are you finding the cruise so far?"

His eyes switched from Helen to Quinn and back. "Relaxing. How about you?"

"Wonderful. Michael, I was hoping to do a little mother/daughter bonding time. Do you mind?"

He gave Daria's hand a sympathetic squeeze and when she almost imperceptivity nodded, said, "I'll see if I can track down Jake and shoot the breeze for a while. I'm sure he'll like that."

"Thank you," Helen said.

As Michael left, Helen slipped into his vacated seat while Quinn rolled a new chair over.

Daria motioned for the deck waiter and said, "I think I'd like something a little stronger, please, but in the same vein."

He cleared the empty glasses from the table and said, "May I recommend a Margarita?"

"Sounds good."

"As you wish," he said and walked away.

Daria then looked to her sister and then her mother. "Okay, what's up with the double-team tactic?"

Helen started. "Sweetie, you've been engaged for almost nine months now."

Looking down at her stomach, Daria said, "I don't see any sign of the usual reason that nine months would be significant."

"Daria!" Quinn said. "You only have ten months until your wedding!"

"You can follow a calendar. Very good, Quinn."

Helen leaned toward Daria a couple inches. "Have you done any planning for your wedding?"

"We have the date." Daria folded her arms. "And we know we want it to be small and simple. Not much more than that is currently needed."

"You can't leave these things to the last minute," Quinn said. "I don't get it. You plan everything else, why aren't you planning your wedding?"

Daria held up her hand. "Hold that thought," she said and stood. "I'll be right back. Without letting them answer, Daria went straight to the bar where the waiter had just given the bartender her order.

The bartender looked back and noticed Helen and Quinn, then winked at Daria and said, "Right away, miss." With much practiced speed, he had the glass salted, the drink mixed and then poured into the glass.

"Thanks," she said before taking a sip. The tartness and the tequila bite made her take notice, but the Cointreau gave a smoothness that counterbalanced the salt for a surprisingly enjoyable experience.

She took a couple more sips on her way back. Holding the glass tight, she sat down and looked back at Quinn and Helen. "You were saying?"

"Daria," Helen said, watching the drink in her daughter's hand. "A wedding takes a lot of planning and we're just worried that you won't get what you want for your special day."

"Our special day, Mom. Michael is included in the whole deal and he might have a few ideas about this, too."

"Of course he will, honey. We're just trying to get thingsjump started for you."

"Rings. Have you picked out rings?" Quinn asked.

"No, but you can't swing a cat in a jewelry store without hitting a rack or two of them."

"You'll need time to have them properly sized," Helen said.

"Not ten months."

Quinn said, "Your dress. What about your dress?"

"I've looked a little bit online."

"Online?" Quinn said in horror. "You are _not_ getting married in an online dress."

"I think I have the final say on that. Look, Quinn, Mom, I know you want the best for me, but I think you're really getting upset early without reason. My wedding is not going to be like planning the moon landing or anything."

Helen said, "Daria, a little advanced planning will help me to budget for everything."

"Mom, we're not looking to spend enough on the wedding to warrant such long-range budget planning. I saw the insanity Amy went through and it is not going to happen for me. Mom, I'll make you a deal. You can go as insane as you want on Quinn's wedding. Besides, you and Dad had a simple wedding and it was lovely."

"We didn't have as much of a choice as you do, what with the cost of Rita's wedding six months before"

"Don't go Dad on me," Daria warned, hearing the growl creep into her mother's voice. "But you're right; Michael and I have a choice. Please respect that what we are choosing is something small and simple, even though you are happy and willing to spend a lot more."

Helen nodded. "You're right, Daria, but I'm here if you change your mind. One more thing you should consider; even if you want something small, a lot of people have June weddings. If you don't do much of anything else right now, you need to reserve the place you want to make sure you get it."

"Okay, Mom. I'll look into that as soon as I get back to Boston."

Helen let out her breath and smiled at the small victory. "Just put the deposit on my platinum card, dear."

Daria tipped her glass toward Helen. "Want some?"

"After that, I need one of my own."

* * *

  
Jake, Michael, Q and Mike were all seated around a table at one of the nightclubs, an assortment of beers in front of them. Jake clapped his hands together and said, "Well, what do you say?"

Michael gave a thumb's up and said, "I'm in. This should be fun."

Q took a deep drink and said, "You should've seen me at the California Ent Society meeting. I'm in."

Mike looked at the others. "Same here. I can't wait to see the looks on the girls' faces."

* * *

  
"You really have a horse?" Fran asked while snacking on an apple. She was seated with the other women on the trip near the upper deck swimming pool.

Karen said, "Her name's Elvira. I get a little frustrated that I only get to ride her when I'm home in Georgia. That's why I'm planning on stopping by Mom and Dad's on the way home this trip. I wish I could afford to bring her up to Boston with me."

"Call me jealous, I always wanted a horse when I was growing up."

"I'm jealous of your hair. Every time I try to get mine to grow much longer than what I have now, it frizzes out and I look like Natalie Maines after electroshock treatment."

Fran used one hand to lift some hair and let it flow back down through her fingers. "Thanks, but it's also a lot of work. I'm tempted at times to cut it short like Quinn, but again, it's one of the things that people like, so I keep it."

"A horse is a lot of work, too. Which means I really owe my family for the last couple years," Karen joked. She closed her eyes and leaned back on her deck chair. "I really need to find a way to bring Elvira up to Massachusetts. Taking care of her will help keep me busy while Derek's away."

"Your boyfianc, right?"

Karen nodded. "Speaking of him, I promised pictures." She rolled over to dig through her purse sitting on the deck. After finding her camera, she sat up and said, "Smile."

Taking a cue from some of Quinn's antics in front of a camera, Fran stood and struck a looking-over-her-shoulder pose. "How's this?"

"When they see that, some of the guys in his squad might want your phone number."

"Promises, promises."

Tammy rolled onto her stomach and bent her legs forward, crossing them. "How's this?"

"Good," Karen said, taking the photo.

Laughing together, Karen gathered posed photos of all four, and then Jane took over the camera to take a few of Karen. "Just to keep things fair."

Tammy asked Jane, "Where's your guy?"

"We saw Michael wandering around and he mentioned that Quinn and Helen had hijacked Daria for some 'quality time.' I felt sorry for him, so I let Mack loose for a while so they can hang out."

"Do you think that's safe?" Grace joked.

"They're pretty well behaved," Jane said. "Though if they run into Jakehe has a way of making guys do weird things like chasing squirrels. Or, so I heard."

"You know," Fran said. "I think I saw Q with Quinn's dad. Should we be worried if all four get together?"

Jane sat down. "You had to bring that up, didn't you?"

"For this one time, I'm glad Derek's not along," Karen said.

* * *

  
Michael looked around the group of deck chairs and said, "No blood, no crime scene tape, I'll take that as a good sign the bonding experience wasn't fatal for any involved."

Daria looked up at him from her book. "Mom and Quinn decided I needed an intervention for wedding planning."

"What is it with mothers and wedding planning?" he said, sitting down.

"Beats me."

"But things seem to have gone well enough." He quickly looked over the railing and said, "Or you dumped the bodies overboard."

Daria chuckled. "No, we came to a mutually agreeable arrangement."

"Oh? Should I be worried?"

"Not too much, though we have to figure out where to have the wedding. I promised to make arrangements when we get back to Boston."

"I wonder if I could swing the Old North Church?"

"You're kidding. I'd have thought that it wouldn't be open to things like weddings."

"It can't hurt to ask. Inside connections and all that."

"We'll still need a plan B."

"We have all week."

"True. So, what have you been up to while I was being interrogated?"

"Not much, just kind of hung around a bit."

"You wanted to get back to your book."

He sat down and opened his book. "You know me too well."

* * *

  
Stretched out on a chair later that evening, Mack said, "You've got easel itch already."

On the bed and flipping through a sketchpad, Jane said, "Yeah. I've got lots of good stuff already, not to mention the stuff on my digital camera. I hate waiting, but I wasn't about to try to get my easel onto a plane."

"Hmm, you know, if you can't scratch that itch, maybe I can scratch another one."

"Left up to you, we'd never leave this cabin," Jane teased.

"Is that a problem?" Mack said, raising one eyebrow.

"There's not exactly a lot of room for me to run in here."

"Running's not the only aerobic exercise"

"Truebut can you keep up with me?"

"Let's see."

* * *

  
"You're not freaked out," Fran, her makeup removed before going to bed, said to Karen.

"I have a history with people and body self-image," Karen said with some old sadness in her voice. She patted her hip and said, "Too many of us fixate on things, real or imagined, that we see as flaws and can hurt ourselves over that image. I've forced myself to be careful so that I don't reinforce the idea."

"Not too many people can do that. Even though she's helped me so much, Quinn was shocked by my face at first. It's a natural reaction."

"All of us can make mistakes with first impressions. I made some assumptions about Daria based on her looks that were wrong."

Fran picked up an energy bar from her stash on the vanity. "I hope you don't mind if I grab a quick snack before going to sleep."

Karen shook her head. "Not at all, Fran. Not at all."

* * *

  
Jake stiffly sat up on the bed, looking toward the wall separating them from Quinn's stateroom.

Helen crawled into bed beside him. "Quinn's a big girl now, just like Daria."

"I know, honey," He said. "But she's"

"She's just as responsible as her sister."

Jake nodded and put his arms around Helen. "You're right. It's not as if they're like we were at their age."

Helen sat straight up and stared at the same wall, her eyes wide open.

* * *

  
Wearing a new, long nightgown, Quinn stared in the bathroom mirror, saying, "You can do this. You can do this." She drained a glass of water and left it next to the sink before swiftly turning and marching into the stateroom.

Q, clad in shorts and a t-shirt, waited on the bed with the covers neatly pulled aside for Quinn. "You look great."

She smiled and nervously rushed to the bed before letting him pull the sheets over her.

He held her and whispered, "It's okay to be nervous. How about if we just hold each other?"

"I'd like that," she whispered, clumsily moving her arms around him. Her tension fell away to contentment as she listened to his heartbeat and fell asleep.

Listening to the soft snore, Q stroked Quinn's hair. "Some things are worth waiting for," he gently said. After a soft laugh, he added, "No matter how frustrating it might be."

* * *

  
Hovering near all of the young adults near the dockside exit, Helen said, "Remember everybody; don't be late, because the ship won't wait for you."

"We're big kids now," Daria said. "We'll be all right."

"That sounded bad, didn't it?" Helen said, embarrassed.

Quinn gave her mother a quick hug. "Not that bad, Mom. We know you worry about us, thanks."

"There are worse fates than getting stuck on a tropical island," Mike said.

"Is that a hint?" Jane said, giving him a grin.

"An observation."

"Hmm, maybe I should spend my time observing you."

Letting the mass of tourists leaving the cruise ship separate them from the others, Daria asked Quinn, "Is there anything you need to talk about?"

"No, I'm doing fine, but thanks for asking. We didn't do anything more than cuddle last night."

Daria gently nodded her head. "I'd say your trust was well-founded."

Q slipped through the crowd next to Michael. "Should we be worried that Quinn and Daria look like they're comparing notes?"

"Not unless you gave them a reason," Michael said. "They can fight as much as my sister and I, but I'd be terrified to face them united."

"I don't think they have a reason, but then, I haven't always noticed when I have given a girl a reason to be mad at me."

"Been there, done that, ate the crow."

"So have I, but so far, not with Quinn."

"Yet."

Q chuckled. "Yeah, yet."

Curious, Michael changed the subject. "So, you're voluntarily going on a shopping tour of Nassau with four girls."

"Yep. Even though I know better than to have any such plans, think of how the other guys will look at me"

"Like you're a pack-mule?"

Q rubbed his chin. "Hmmmaybe I haven't thought this completely through." He shrugged. "Oh, hell, how bad can it be?"

* * *

  
Walking through the streets of Nassau, Daria pushed an ill-fitting paper pirate hat off of her glasses and then looked at Michael wearing the same, as were the entire "Pirates of Nassau" tour group. "What are the meter readings now?"

"The guide's _faux_ pirate accent pushes the hokey-meter up to mild nausea,' but the accuracy-meter is still running in the 'only slightly embellished' zone." Michael said with an amused grin. Lifting his hat, he added, "But at the customer fashion end, it's well down in the 'needs improvement' range."

"I would say something," Jane observed, "But I know from past experience that is your idea of having fun."

"Just like you snarking at public art displays," Mike said.

Jane let a twinge of irritation pass by before she said, "Hey, that's what I call real fun."

Karen reached up and gently stroked the guide's pet parrot, perched on her left shoulder. "I give the guy credit for good taste in associates."

"Or associates that taste good?" Michael said, stepping quickly aside to dodge Karen's kick.

"Speaking of tasting good, I hope we stop to eat soon; I'm starving," Mike said.

"You're always starving," Jane said.

"I'm a growing boy."

"You had lunch before the tour."

* * *

  
Walking upright through the lower deck of a replica sloop, Mike said, "Is it me, or shouldn't the roof be lower?"

Michael looked up at the wooden deck above and said, "I guess they don't want the tourists to get sore backs."

Jane, mugging in front of a shipboard surgery display with full-size mannequins of the surgeon and patient while Karen took a photo, said, "Now I'm getting hungry."

"Mmmm," Daria said. "How about some hard tack and weevils?"

"I wonder if they'll serve them at the Pirate's Tavern at the end of the tour?" Michael asked.

"To go with the 'authentic pirate grog,'" Daria said.

"Your turn," Karen said, indicating Daria and Michael to stop for photos.

Settling into a pose, Daria said, "It's a good thing we brought my laptop to download all the pictures since your memory card would never hold them all."

"And Derek will appreciate it." Karen took the shot and motioned her head toward the exhibit exit. "Now come on, let's see what's next."

With her in the lead, the others followed to another display that featured two women as pirates. She read from the display placard, "Ann Bonny and Mary Read. This is really cool."

Seeing Daria eyeing the tall, cuffed boots on one of the figures, Michael whispered to her, "You'd look good wearing those."

Her eye glinted with mischief and she turned to whisper in his ear, "Yarr."

"We can look in the gift shop."

* * *

  
Under a red and white beach umbrella, Helen relaxed on a chair and looked out over the pure white coral sand of the beach at families playing in the gentle surf. She lifted a tall, cold drink from a table and took a drink from one of the straws in it.

On the next chair, Jake playfully said, "Don't bogart it, Helen."

Giggling at the reference to their youth, she said, "There's plenty left, honey," and passed the glass to him.

He sipped from the second straw. "Ah, this is the life. Why didn't we do this years ago?"

Helen took the drink back from him. "We let little things like corporate mergers and business conferences get in the way."

A teenage boy ran up to them, holding a post card in his hand. "Your card is ready."

"I'll get this," Helen said. She opened her purse and passed the teen some cash.

He accepted it and handed over a freshly printed postcard with a photo of her and Jake seated on their beach chairs. "Thank you, pretty lady," he said before running off to a small stand on the edge of the beach where a man was waiting. The boy grabbed a digital camera and ran back among the tourists on the beach, looking for new customers.

"That was a little steep for a post card," Jake said.

Helen shrugged. "Probably, but that boy and his family might be living off of selling them. We're on vacation; don't worry about it.

"You're right, Helen. Who are you going to send it to?"

"I owe one to Amy. Helen reached into her purse for a pen and then she wrote on the card, "Dear sis, I love island life. Beautiful sun, wonderful people, sharing umbrella drinks with Jake. Glad I'm on vacation. My love to all, Helen."

* * *

  
Hearing Quinn's voice outside of their cabin, Michael said to Daria, "After what you've told me about some of your sister's shopping trips, I have to see what this looks like."

Sitting on the bed, barefoot, she said, "Don't take too long. You promised to massage my feet after walking all day."

"Just a quick look at the train wreck, I promise."

"Good, then I can try on those boots when you're done."

Michael stepped into the hallway and saw Q easily pulling a folding, aluminum hand cart stacked high with packages. As he neared, Michael said, "Smarter than your average bear, I see."

Q tapped the side of his head. "You should know that smart guys get the smart chicks."

Michael laughed and said, "Is that just Quinn's stuff?"

"Oh, no. Since I bought the cart, I just agreed to carry stuff for everyone. A lot easier that way. When they gather together after dinner to sort through their purchases, it'll be a good time for me to slip away foryou know."

"Gotcha. Daria usually will write in her diary then."

"Cool. See you later."

"Later."

Michael went back into the cabin and straight to Daria. He sat on the bed, lifted her right foot and then gently started to massage it.

She said, "How bad?"

"I suspect extra luggage will be needed by the end of the trip, but I think Q's smart enough to survive your sister."

"Oh, that's good." Daria laid back and closed her eyes. "That's very good."

"Q's good sense or the massage?"

"Both."

* * *

  
Seeing Daria, Quinn and Jane gathered in the hallway between their cabins after dinner, Helen went to them and said, "Girls, have any of you seen Jake?"

Arms folded, Jane said, "He's missing, too?"

"Now it's really time to be worried," Daria said.

Quinn said, "Dear God, please don't let them try to cook anything."

"Hold on a second," Daria said before disappearing into her room. She emerged a couple moments later with the cruise schedule. After a fast scan, she said, "The kitchens are safe. No cooking classes are scheduled."

"Whew," Quinn said. "But Q, Dad, Mike and Michael are still off somewhere and you know that can't be good."

Jane said, "So they're not cooking and I'm sure that they can't find anything to blow up, so it must be something potentially very embarrassing."

"Sweetie," Helen said, "Is there anything else on the list we should worry about?"

"Hmmpoker, probably not, Michael has a terrible poker face and he knows itballroom dance lessons?"

"Trust me, Mack doesn't need lessons in that department," Jane said.

Daria gave her a fast, curious look and continued reading, "Country line dancing?"

Quinn shook her head. "No way."

"Uh, Bartending 101? Michael just turned 21"

"I could see that," Jane said.

"Yeah, in a science guy kind of way," Quinn said.

Helen rubbed her temples. "New versions of Martiniswe better check this out."

"Agreed," Daria said.

Jane asked, "So what's the plan?"

"Give me a minute," Daria said, looking at the ship's deck plans.

* * *

  
Fran blinked against the bright lights that mixed with the otherwise dim nightclub and found Tammy dancing with a guy wearing a University of Central Florida shirt. She tapped her friend's shoulder and yelled over the dance music, "I'm heading outside for a few minutes!"

"I'll be around!" Tammy called back.

Fran nodded and weaved her way off of the dance floor and outside onto an observation deck. Several of the available tables were occupied, mostly by couples talking quietly. She went straight past them to lean against the railing and watch the pale green glow of the ship's wake. Beyond, only the shimmer of stars on the rippled ocean betrayed the difference between water and sky for the moonless evening.

Soon, she sensed someone behind her. A man's voice said, "Is this spot taken?"

She turned to find a young man joining her at the railing. He was a nondescript kind of cute, pleasant but nothing striking. He had light brown hair, a thin mustache maybe two weeks old and brown eyes. Fran said, "No. I was just getting some fresh air."

"You have pretty eyes," he said.

"I've been told thatwait, was that a pickup line?" Fran said.

"Not horribly original." The guy shrugged. "But still true."

"You're really trying to pick me up?"

He held up his hands. "Um, if you're not into guys, I, like, apologize."

"Oh, no. Nothing like that. I like guys, I was just surprised."

"Oh, okay. Huh?"

"Let's say that I've been a little sheltered and leave it at that."

"Sure," he said. "So"

Fran faintly smiled. "You haven't struck out yet."

Inside, Grace found Tammy seated on a barstool and she took the next seat. "Hey, how's it going?"

"Oh, I'm having a great time. Danced with half a dozen guys and had a couple of drinks bought for me. How about you?"

Grace ran her fingers through the light curls in her hair. "These east coast boys seem to really like California girls."

Tammy giggled. "Yeah, for some of them, it's almost as if we're from another country." She imitated a man's voice, "Do you have those all the way out there?"

Grace did the same. "Hey, I hear you have a Disney, too! When did it open?"

"Oh, that's a good one."

Looking around, Grace said, "Where's Fran?"

"She went outside for some air."

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea." Grace stood and said, "Coming?"

"Sure."

Stepping out to the observation deck, Tammy looked around. "I thought she came out here."

Grace pointed toward a couple on the stern railing, the woman almost a full head shorter than the man. "She did and it looks like she had an ulterior motive."

* * *

  
Returning to their staterooms from the "Golden Galleon" nightclub, Daria led her mother, sister and friend down the hall. "Well, the bartending lessons were a bust."

"There's Michael," Quinn said, seeing the red-haired young man entering his and Daria's room.

"I'll try to find out what's going on," Daria said, increasing her walking pace. At her cabin, she paused for a second to collect her thoughts and then went inside.

"Hi, Michael," she said. "Where have you been hiding?"

Familiar with the little burr in her voice, Michael was immediately aware that she knew he'd been up to something and decided to clear as much as possible. "I was with your dad, Mike and Q. We have a little surprise planned for everyone."

Daria folded her arms and leaned back against the closed door. "A surprise?"

"Yes, a surprise. Therefore, I can't give you any more details or it will no longer be one."

"All four of you?"

"Yes. It was your dad's idea."

"My dad?"

"Yeah."

"Is this some bonding idea of his?"

"Maybe." Michael explained, "Okay, look. It won't involve cooking, fire, alcohol or small animals of any kind."

"That's a start. So, you're asking Mom, Quinn, Jane and me to trust you."

"Yes."

Daria sighed at herself and walked over to her fianc. "I trust you and I know I can get Mom and the rest to trust all of you guys."

* * *

  
With Q spooned against her as they lay in bed, Quinn felt every muscle in her body almost melt away as he nibbled on the base of her neck. At the same time, she could feel excitement building within from the erotic intimacy she felt from being in bed next to him. She rolled slightly to kiss him. As she did, his hand moved down along her thigh, bringing shivers, but also a sudden case of nervous tension. Quinn's mind rolled through what was happening and where it was leading. Is he the right one? Is there such a thing as the right one? Should they wait or not? How would it change their relationship? Was she ready to let somebody truly be that close to her?

Unsteady, she moved his hand away with hers and whispered, "II think that's enough for now, please."

His deep feelings for her making sure that no disappoint showed in his voice, Q whispered back, "Sorry for getting a little carried away," and he held Quinn's hand to reassure her that he would go no further.

"No need to apologize," she said. "I really liked what you were doing, butI'm just not ready for more right now."

* * *

  
Karen heard faint movement in her cabin and she looked at the clock, which read 2:44 AM. "Fran?" she whispered.

"Sorry," the other girl whispered back. "I don't have a lot of practice sneaking in late."

"Ah. Does this mean you had a good time?"

"Yeah, I did. What about you?"

"Daria's letting me borrow her laptop. I got the first batch of photos ready and I wrote a letter to Derek. There's supposed to be phone jacks at the cruise terminal in St. Thomas. I'm going to e-mail them tomorrow before I hit the beach."

"After all day shopping today, I think staying at the beach will be great tomorrow. I'll try to be quiet while I clean off my makeup."

"Thanks. Good night."

"Good night."

* * *

  
Holding a diving mask and snorkel in one hand and a pair of swim fins in the other, Jake looked at his daughters and their friends clustered under several beach umbrellas. "Are you kids sure you don't want to join us?"

Holding up a book, Daria said, "I'm sure, Dad. We spent most of yesterday walking around Nassau and I know that Michael's going to spend all day tomorrow in Old San Juan. He really wants to see the _El Morro_ fortress. I need a day of rest and I'm sure Mom will like spending the day alone with you."

Standing beside Jake, Helen saw the subtle twinkle in Daria's eye when she said the last bit.

Quinn said, "And what good are these beaches if we don't take advantage of them at least once?"

Karen winked at Fran and scooted her chair over a foot away from Daria and Quinn. "The Morgendorffer sisters are in agreement."

Fran waved the concern away. "To slack off," she said.

"Yes, but Daria can be dangerous when she's bored."

"Isn't that Michael's job?"

Karen pointed a thumb at the guys talking together. "I think he's going to be a little distracted."

"Hmm."

"Yeah, hmm."

A familiar voice from the night before said, "Hi, Fran."

Her face lit up and she turned to face the man standing behind her chair. "Hi, Gerald."

"So that's the reason you came in so late last night," Karen said.

Grace heard the comment and tapped Tammy. "Hey, it's Fran's mystery man.'"

Fran rolled her eyes. "Everybody, this is Gerald. Gerald, these are my suitemates at school. Tammy's the blonde and Grace has the _naturally_ curly hair." Grace rolled her eyes at having her frequent insistence about her hair come back at her. Pivoting to shift Gerald's attention, Fran said, "She's my remaining suitemate, Quinn. Next to her are her sister Daria and her roommates. She's Karen and the one with black hair is Jane. The guys are Michael, Mike, and Q. They're attached to Daria, Jane and Quinn, in that order."

"Put 'er there, my man," Jake said, offering his hand. "Daria and Quinn's father, Jake. And this is my wife, Helen."

"Good to meet you, young man," Helen said.

A little confused, Gerald shook Jake's hand and said, "Um, hi."

Fran asked, "Do you people mind if I, uh"

Quinn grinned and said, "He's a cute one, Fran. Go on."

"We can interrogate him later," Tammy said.

"Yeah, later would be good. I don't carry sodium pentothal on me," Grace joked.

Fran jumped up and grabbed Gerald's hand, leading him away and explaining, "Pharmacy major."

"They seem a little protective," he said.

"They're my sorority sisters. They're supposed to be protective."

"Then I'm glad your parents aren't onboard."

* * *

  
Jake broke the water surface next to Helen and extended one hand upward to grasp the gunwale of their small tour boat. After a bit of unclear mumbling, he pulled the snorkel from his mouth and excitedly said, "Honey, isn't this great?"

Hand also resting on the ship's rail, she said, "Yes it is, Jake. We really should've done this years ago."

"Yeah, having the SCUBA gear would've been fun, but I like this better." His voice started to progressively rise. "No fussy tanks or regulars or having to learn ditch and don and no damn"

"Jake!" she softly admonished.

"What? Oh, yeah. Like I was saying, I like snorkeling a lot more. I feel freer, if you know what I mean."

"I do, Jake."

With a playful leer, Jake said, "Do what?"

Helen softly smiled and thought of Daria's comment, "I'm sure Mom will like spending the day alone with you". _Thank you, Sweetie._ She said, "Later, Jakey."

* * *

  
Tammy looked around at the other women still gathered on the beach and then out at Q, Mike and Michael riding small, fast watercraft just offshore. Jane had a sketchpad on her lap and was happily drawing. Daria's face was hidden by a book, and Quinn was supremely relaxed, lying on her stomach with her head cradled on her arms. "Okay, can someone explain this to me? The three guys are out there playing with their toys while six girls are here together on the beach. I'd have thought the appearance of 2-1 odds would stroke their egos enough to hang around more."

Not even opening her eyes, Quinn said, "Boys and their toys."

"They're in relationships, so that part of their ego is covered. They're out there bonding over shows of testosterone-induced stupidity. It's genetic," Daria said without even pausing her reading.

"And since there's no keg involved, there's not much to worry about," Jane said.

"It's still a bunch of guys on motorized vehicles," Grace said. "Want to start a pool on who does something stupid first? Five dollars."

"Michael," Daria said without hesitation.

Karen said, "Put me down for that."

"Me, too," said Jane.

"That was fast," Grace said. "I was kind of expecting Michael to be the least likely. No offense, Daria, but he seems kind of"

Daria looked up and gave Grace one of her faint smiles. "plain? Michael's usually very rational and thoughtful, but at timeshe'll do something on impulse that often ends badly. I think it just needs to get out from time to time."

Tammy said, "You mean that if he holds it in, he'll explode?"

Karen laughed. "Something like that."

"I think that's why he gets along with my dad," Daria said.

"Between watching over the football team in high school," Jane said, "and partying with his frat brothers, Mack knows how to cut loose without drawing attention."

"What about your guy, Quinn?" Grace asked.

"Oh, he would never embarrass me like thatif he knows what's good for him," she said with a smile.

Not missing the chance to tease, Tammy said, "So, how's the sleeping arrangements going, Quinn?"

Blushing, just as Tammy had intended, Quinn said, "Um, fine. Okay."

"Aww," Grace said, watching. "Isn't it cute when she does that?"

* * *

  
After watching Michael ride his watercraft off of a jump ramp and plow it nose-first into the water, Grace sighed, looked at her purse and said, "I had to suggest a pool."

Daria watched the aftermath intently until she saw Michael's head appear and he looked fine, if embarrassed, which allowed her to relax. When he started to swim to the idling craft, he seemed to slow down and then stopped, looking around in confusion. Mike and Q rode up to him and after a brief exchange, both started to laugh. Michael shook his head and swam the rest of the way to the waiting craft, holding on but not climbing up. Q and Mike drove their craft around, apparently looking for something. After a few minutes, they gave up and Mike rode toward shore. He cut the engine and allowed the craft to beach itself. Wearing a grin, he walked the rest of the way to the girls.

Daria asked, "Okay, did he lose what I think he lost out there?"

Mike chuckled and nodded his head. "He'd appreciate it if you could find him some new pants soon."

The other young women broke into lighthearted giggles at the news. Jane said, "I didn't know he was such an exhibitionist."

Daria looked over her shoulder and back toward the many beachside shops. "I think I can find something nearby. Tell him I won't go back to the ship for his other pair."

"I don't get it."

"He'll understand."

* * *

  
Daria was glad that the surf was light as she slowly swam to Michael. At the floating watercraft, she grabbed onto it and handed Michael a new pair of swim shorts. "You owe me."

"No kidding," he said, looking at the offered apparel. "Parrots?" he said, inquiring about the printed design.

"Hey, did you want fast or fashionable?"

He swam closer and kissed her. "Fast is good. Thanks."

"Some things are for my eyes only," she said, reaching down underwater to briefly stroke his exposed cheek.

He smirked and kissed Daria again, bringing her closer. "Maybe I should do this more often."

She accepted the kiss and then said, "Next time, I get the shorts with mouse ears."

"Okay, I get the hint. I won't do it again."

"Good."

* * *

  
The cashier at the photo shop handed Gerald a credit card receipt to sign. "Thank you, Mr"

"Just Gerald is fine," he said, exchanging a wink with Fran.

The cashier took the request in stride and then gave Gerald a package containing two large prints. "Have a good day, sir."

"Thanks," Gerald replied before following Fran out of the shop.

They joined hands and laughed as they started walking down the narrow street. They looked at each other and said in unison, "No last names," before laughing again.

* * *

  
Daria was lying flat on Karen's bed looking at trip photos on the laptop while Karen sat next to the machine. Daria pointed to one photo and said, "You have to send that one."

"You've got that right," she said. "Oh, and that one."

Daria nodded. Scrolling down the preview, she stopped suddenly and said, "Um, that one'sinteresting."

Karen blushed and said, "Oops, you weren't supposed to see that. That's for Derek's private viewing."

Daria scrolled past the photo quickly. "I should hope so."

Someone knocked on the door and Karen yelled, "It's open!"

Quinn, Grace and Tammy entered the room and Quinn said, "Have you seen Fran?"

"She put on a hot-looking dress and met that Gerald," Karen said. "I think they said something about dinner on the Starlight Deck."

"She's spending a lot of time with him," Grace said.

Daria said, "I haven't heard any complaints out of her and she's an adult. What's the problem?"

"We're worried," Tammy said.

"I'm no expert," Daria said, "Be he seems like a nice guy and she enjoys his company."

Quinn sat on the bed next to Daria. "Yeah, but we don't know anything about him."

Figuring out the situation, Daria said, "You're pretty protective of Fran, aren't you?"

"She's one of our sorority sisters," Quinn replied, followed with nods from the other girls.

With a shake of her head, Daria replied. "It's more than that."

The other girls looked around, but didn't say anything.

Daria continued to say, "It says a lot about how good-hearted all of you are that you care so much for your friend and don't want her to get hurt. However, you need to give Fran a chance to try things on her own. Yes, her heart might be broken in the process, but she'll recover. Just like I have and just like I'm sure each of you has." Daria shrugged. "Maybe you can't really learn to love until you've felt the pain of failing at love."

"But she's had such a hard time," Quinn said.

"Yes, she has, and this is something she should do on her own. If you are her friends, be there just in case she needs you."

"If you want my opinion," Karen said. "I wouldn't worry about Fran. She's here to have fun and it looks like she is."

"I hope you're right," Tammy softly said.

* * *

  
With Daria, Michael stood in front of the 16th century fortress gate and said, "_El Castillo San Felipe del Morro_. The defender of Old San Juan. This is going to be so cool."

Daria looked at the walls and said, "Let's hope the sanitary facilities are not from the 16th century."

The entrance portal ran through the massive walls and out onto the upper level plaza. Jake and Helen followed the young couple and once inside, Jake stopped next to Michael and both stared at the surrounding walls, mesmerized.

Helen went to Daria. "I don't think we're going to be very noticeable on this trip."

"Michael's in history geek mode," Daria replied. "I do the same thing when I'm writing."

"So do I with my legal briefs."

Michael and Jake broke out of their self-induced hypnosis and began actively prowling around the plaza, looking into the nooks and crannies while Daria and Helen followed. After the plaza, they went down a steep ramp through more heavy walls to the main battery of the fortress.

Along the way, Daria said, "I'm a little surprised at how interested Dad is in all this."

"Your father did go to a military school," Helen said. "He always liked the history; it was the training he feared and hated."

"I hadn't thought about that. Most of what I heard about his school was bad."

"Over the years, I've learned to sift through his comments to learn what else happened to him."

"I've done the same with Michael."

Jake and Michael stopped at one of the heavy cannons on display and broke into an animated discussion that alternated with pointing and looking down the cannon's barrel like two children out exploring.

Daria watched them with a soft smile slowly forming. "I'm glad that they're getting along. It's one less thing to worry about."

Helen put her hand on Daria's shoulder. "In some ways, Michael reminds me of Jake at that age. Kind, decent, intelligent, but still goes overboard at times." She gently laughed. "I'm glad your father wasn't with the boys yesterday on those contraptions."

Daria laughed back. "Same here. Both of us swimming out with shorts would've been too much."

"I hope you don't mind me saying this, but I see a lot of the old me in you, too. Dedicated and idealistic, but jaded by all that's wrong in the world around you. You know it's an uphill struggle, but you fight for the things you believe to be important. I see in you the best parts of me that I lost."

"Uhthanks," Daria said, touched by her mother's sentiment.

"I think you know what I mean."

"Yeah. I think I also know what you lost. I started feeling it just before I left the University Press. I was becoming so dedicated to my work that I was losing sight of everyone else." Daria shifted to face her mother. "Mom, since your stroke, I can tell that you're fighting to change back. I'm with you."

"I'm trying, Sweetie."

"Can I make a suggestion?"

"Of course you can."

"Leave the law firm."

"Daria!" Helen said in suppressed surprise.

"Mom, I felt so much better when I left the University Press. I'm able to write again and enjoy it. I'm not thinking right away. Take your time and find something in law that you'll enjoy. Something you can be idealistic about again." When Helen didn't reply, Daria said, "Can you think about it?"

Helen nodded and her voice seemed distant when she replied, "I will."

Daria motioned toward Jake and Michael at the far end of the battery. "We better catch up with them."

Helen said, "I think we're going to be doing a lot of that in the future."

"I'm afraid you're right."

Nearing the men, they heard Michael saying, "We get some of the Rev War guys come through the Visitor Center now and then to check on things with the historians. I bet with a little work we could convince someone to let you onto a cannon crew for a shot or two."

"Really?" Jake said through a huge grin.

"You would have to dress for the part."

"They can't be any worse than my old cadet uniform."

"Good point."

"Do you hear that, Ellenbogen!" Jake said to the air. "You can't keep me away from a cannon forever!"

Daria said, "Should we be worried?"

Helen smiled and put an arm around her daughter. "I think we better get used to it."

* * *

  
Surrounded by the lush foliage of the _El Yunque_ rainforest, Quinn folded her arms and watched Q as he carefully focused his camera on a large beetle crawling on a tree. "Just to let you know, I'm not eating any wild berries."

He snapped the shot and looked back at her. "Huh?"

"I'm not eating any wild berries."

"I wasn't planning on it myself."

"Good."

"Okay," he said, going back to examining the foliage while silently wondering what caused that exchange.

"You're only going to take pictures of your bugs, right? You didn't sneak some of your pins on board so you can stick them through the bugs like voodoo dolls?"

Q shook his head. "I know you don't like the idea; that's why I agreed to just photograph. Besides, I hate to think what it would've been like to put a killing jar through airport security."

"Sometimes, you're a little like my sister."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Mostly good."

He nodded and stopped, slowly raising his camera again. "Well, I'm glad you agreed to follow me around in a rainforest, looking for insects."

She waited until after he'd taken his next photo before caressing his shoulder. "You agreed to come along on my shopping trip. Fair's fair."

"And the big day bonding with your parents tomorrow on Grand Turk."

"That too."

"I wonder how well Michael's bonding with your parents."

"He'll be okay. He's dealt with them before."

Q stood and embraced Quinn. "At least you have two parents worth meeting."

"Hey, it's not your fault."

"I know, but trust me; if you get a chance to meet my dad, run away."

"Okay, but after this, I need to meet your mom."

"Yeah, we'll have to figure something out. Maybe Thanksgiving."

"Sounds good. Mom and Dad came out to visit me last year."

"Hold still," Q said as he backed slightly away and moved his hand next to Quinn's shoulder, then carefully slapped, killing a mosquito. He brushed it away and said, "Got it."

She gave him a teasing smile and said, "You didn't want a picture?"

"Nah, they're boring."

* * *

  
Karen stepped off the returning transfer bus near the ship dock and sighed. "They had some nice horses to ride, but it only makes me miss Elvira the more." She looked at the nearby beach, shook her head and muttered, "I don't think so. I think I'll find a quiet deck chair and chill for the rest of the port of call."

She went to her stateroom and changed out of her riding clothes and into simple shorts and t-shirt. Carrying her camera, she picked up the borrowed laptop and went up onto one of the open decks to find almost all of the chairs empty. She found one that had a nice view of the gangplank and settled in, hooking up the camera to the computer to download and clean up the day's pictures.

"May I get you something?" a voice said beside Karen after she'd finished the download and was longingly looking at pictures of Derek. She looked up to see a handsome waiter patiently standing by her chair.

Feeling a little down, she said, "Sure, can you get me a mint julep?"

"I'll be right back."

_I've always wanted to try one_, she thought before closing the photo program and opening a word processor to begin a letter to e-mail later.

**Derek,  
I'm trying to have a good time, but today, I just ran out of steam. I guess being the first day actually alone did it. Daria and Michael are off with her folks doing the historical tour of San Juan. Jane and Mike went to one of the casinos. Daria's sister Quinn and her boyfriend are off bug-hunting, while all of her friends have picked up unattached guys and are off in different directions. I got a chance to do some horseback riding today along the edge of the rainforest and it only reminded me how much I miss Elvira. Once I got back onboard ship, being alone reminded me of how very much I miss you.**

"Your drink," the waiter said, placing a tall glass on the table next to Karen. When she reached for her purse, he said, "On me."

She gave him a polite smile and said, "It's a kind offer, but no, thank you. I'll pay."

"Oh, come on. I don't bite," the waiter said, giving her a slick smile.

"Nothing personal, but I'm not interested."

"But a pretty girl like you, sitting all alone, can't help but sway a young man's interest."

Becoming annoyed, Karen said, "Thank you for the compliment, but I'm not looking to hook up with anybody. I just want to pay for my drink, enjoy it and write a letter."

"Aw, come on. Wouldn't you rather have some pleasant company?"

She held up her hand to show her ring and pointedly said, "No, I have somebody."

"So you have a guy. Where is he?"

"Afghanistan," she growled.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him. My shift ends in half an hour."

Karen set Daria's laptop aside and stood, staring the offending waiter in the eye. "Listen here, you festering wad of foot and mouth drool. Considering that he's probably sitting in a Humvee behind a .50 cal about now, I'd say that what he doesn't know won't hurt you. But that's not entirely true. I can castrate your ass just as fast as I've castrated bulls. A little faster, since there's less to cut."

The waiter gulped, backed away two steps and then ran for the bar. Karen looked around and then flagged the hostess to come over.

She looked at the departed waiter with concern and said, "May I help you?"

Karen pointed to her drink and pulled her room card from her purse. "I'd like to pay for my drink, please."

The hostess smiled and said, hoping to soothe an obviously annoyed passenger, "Was there a problem with your waiter?"

Karen glanced at the man hiding behind the bar. "Performance anxiety."

Her eyes dropped. "My apologies for his rude behavior. I will personally take your orders for the rest of the afternoon." The hostess accepted Karen's payment and said, "I'll ring up this one, but your remaining drinks today will be on the house, if that is acceptable."

"I think I'm going to be fine with this one, but okay. I might like some coffee later."

"As you wish," the hostess said before leaving, while muttering, "That's the third passenger he's hit on this week. That asshole is spending the rest of the cruise doing dishes."

Karen sat down on her chair, sipped from her drink and brought the laptop back to finish her letter.

**I wish I could see you right now. At least I can look at my ring and know what it means to us.**

* * *

  
The last of the day's makeup cleaned from her face, Fran left the bathroom and said, "I've been babbling the whole time about my day. How was yours, Karen?"

"The horse ride was fun, butI kind of felt a little adrift afterward, so I just came back to the ship. Some jerk waiter not taking no' for an answer didn't help my mood, either."

"Sorry."

"Don't be, it's not your fault."

Fran lifted her hand to her face. "I know what it's like to be left out. Believe me."

"I bet. I was mostly thinking about Derek. He's about halfway through his tour and I kept wishing he was here."

Fran pulled her thigh-length hair together into a pick ponytail, brought it up over her shoulder and sat down on the bed with Karen. "One thing about not getting out as much is that I've learned to be a good listener. We can talk."

"Thanks," Karen said. "In return, I've got a couple of Quinn stories from Daria that I bet you've never heard."

Fran got a sneaky grin. "Oh, have I got some Daria stories for you from Quinn."

* * *

  
The "what-if's", doubts and fears welled up in Quinn, causing her to place her hands on Q's bare chest and breathlessly said, "Okay."

He silently nodded and rolled back onto his side, giving her the room she needed.

She nodded her appreciation and touched his cheek with her fingertip.

"Still worried?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. Part of me wants to, but then another part of me gets so scared"

Making a joke to break the tension, Q said, "Being scared will certainly put a damper on your fun, so we'll just have to wait."

She let out a quick laugh and let her head rest on the pillow. "Thanks."

* * *

  
Over breakfast the next morning, Tammy read from her guidebook and said, "The 4X4 safari excursion sounds like fun; anybody want to join me?"

"I had my fill of 4X4 safaris in high school," Karen said, "and washed plenty of red Georgia clay off of my boots after. Since we're talking about plans, Daria, Jane, how about the three of us spend today doing something together? I think it would be fun."

Jane one-armed shrugged. "Sounds good to me. Mack?"

He returned the shrug. "No problem."

Jane said, "Cool, we can set M&M loose on Grand Turk and head the other way. That is, if you can tear yourself away from Michael, Daria."

"Jane, we are not joined at the hip," Daria said, pausing to glance at her fianc, who nodded an affirmative. "Michael and I didn't have any concrete plans for today, so sure, Karen."

"Great," Karen said. "I'm sure the guys can amuse themselves for a few hours."

Michael said, "Mike, how does the deep sea fishing tour sound?"

"Sun and sleeping sounds good to me. You're on."

"So what are we going to do?" Jane asked.

Karen had her cruise guide. "How about visiting an uninhabited island?"

"Uninhabited, if you don't count the daily tourists," Daria said, looking at the guide. "But hmm, swimming with friendly' stingrays could give me a few story ideas. If not, we can always use other tourists to see how friendly they really are."

Jane also looked at Karen's guide. "There's also power lounging on the beach with cold drinks and a full takeout lunch. Let's go."

Grace said, "I'm going to check out shopping in the main town, Cockburn. I don't have enough tacky tourist stuff yet. And as a native of Anaheim, I know tacky tourist stuff when I see it."

"Fran?" Tammy asked.

The young woman said, "I have plans with Gerald."

Showing a little concern, Grace said, "You realize the cruise is over the day after tomorrow, right?"

"I know; that's why we're enjoying the time we can together," Fran replied.

Tammy said, "Quinn, you're off with your folks today, right?"

She nodded. "We're going sailing and then swimming along a reef."

Michael said, "Well Q, it's your turn to spend a day with the Morgendorffers. Are you ready?"

He said, "They can't be any worse than some of the students in the freshman lab I TA'd last year, and certainly no worse than my parents before my dad left."

* * *

  
Gentle waves made a faint slap on the schooner's wooden hull as Quinn and Helen sat on the deck watching Q and Jake snorkeling in the water. Quinn lifted the edge of her wide hat and said, "What do you think, Mom?"

"Think of what?" Helen asked, though a glint in her eye said she knew.

"About Quinn."

"Oh," Helen said, seeing her daughter nervously awaiting the answer. "He's a nice young man."

"Mom," Quinn said. "There's more than that."

"You seem happy with him; that's what's important."

"Mom."

Helen chose to stop teasing her daughter. "I approve, and it looks like your father approves, too."

"Thanks." Looking out again in time to see both dive under, Quinn said, "Yeah, they seem to really be getting along well. I was worried; it took Dad a while to warm up to Michael."

"Your fatherhad to learn that his little girl had grown up and found someone."

"So, it gets easier the second time?"

"Not really, but you learn not to show your concern as much to avoid upsetting your children."

Building up her courage, Quinn said, "Like when they sleep with their boyfriend?"

She saw the brief flash of sadness in her mother before Helen said, "Yes. That's one of the times you have to accept that your daughter is an intelligent, grown woman who can make her own decisions."

A burst of air bubbles came to the surface where the two men had dove, followed moments later by Jake frantically breaking the surface. His arm flailed around with a spiny lobster's claw firmly clamped onto his hand. "Gah! It's got me!"

"Jake!" Helen called, immediately worried.

Q came up and managed to grab the arm and errant creature. "Hold still!" he yelled, prying the claw loose. But with both hands busy with that, just as he got the lobster loose from Jake, the other claw bore down onto his arm. "Ah!" he yelled in pain and surprise.

"Quinn!" the female bearer of the name cried.

Q slammed his arm down against the water surface and the lobster let go, flipping its tail to bolt away. Jake looked around and said, "Dammit! It got away!"

Catching his breath, Q said, "After it!"

"Yeah!" Jake said and dove back down.

After Q followed, Helen sighed and turned to Quinn. "I think he's getting along with your father as well as Michael."

"That's good, right?" Quinn said.

"For as long as we can survive it."

* * *

  
Further offshore, a cabin cruiser kept a steady pace as a dozen tourists filled chairs equipped with the heavy-duty fishing rods and reels needed for large, deep-sea fish.

The fishing guide on the deck tapped Michael on the shoulder and said, "Sir."

He sleepily lifted the cap bill shading his eyes. "Shh. I'm fishing."

The guide said, "Looks more like you're napping."

"Same thing. What do you want?"

"Something hit your line. You might want to reel it in."

"Damn," Michael said, opening his eyes again and grabbing the fishing pole. "Now I have to do some work."

In the next chair, Mike stirred and said, "Keep it down over there."

Pulling against the fish on the line, Michael said, "You know, this could really score points with Bump."

Mike gently laughed and said, "I know you're engaged if you're trying to score points with her cat."

* * *

  
Each under a large beach umbrella and enjoying a cold drink, Daria, Jane and Karen sat on the white sand beach and enjoyed the relative solitude. Only a couple of other tour members were on the beach and they were spread wide while most of the rest of the tour were further inland trying to learn how to clean and cook conch from one of the guides. Daria said, "Okay, Karen, what's up?"

"I'm that obvious," Karen said, not really surprised.

Jane said, "Yeah."

Karen said, "Sorry guys, I felt a little left out yesterday. You're my best friends and"

"You wanted to pry us away from our boyfriends because yours is away," Daria said. "It's okay, that's why we're here."

"Trust me," Jane said. "Daria and I know the value of friendship."

"Thanks."

"You know what would really be great right now?" Jane said.

"Pizza," Daria answered.

"On me," Karen said, raising her hand to catch the attention of a waiter. "What do we want on it?"

* * *

  
Sleepy but happy and cuddled against Q's chest, Quinn thought that except for the lobster incident, the previous day had been a success. Her mother and father had accepted and embraced her boyfriend. Her fear that he'd find them overwhelming proved to be unfounded. Quinn looked at his peaceful face, which seemed to glow from the dawn sunlight coming through the window. Something seemed to change within her as she watched him, a change that replaced trepidation with excitement. She felt closer and wanted to be even more so. Emboldened by the feeling, she slowly slid over and onto Q, straddling him and pressing down to embrace him closely before waking him with a kiss.

"Hmm?" he sleepily mumbled, though he clearly enjoyed being woken up.

"Good morning," she said with her voice deepened to a sultry tone.

Bringing his arms up and around her slender waist, he said, "Good morning. You seem to be in a good mood."

"Very," she said before slowly kissing him again.

He let his hand drift down and slip under the edge of Quinn's nightshirt to caress her thigh, which led to her almost purring and nestling her face against his shoulder while continuing her kisses. He whispered, "I guess breakfast can wait."

"That's why the ship has room service," she said, and then gently nibbled on his earlobe.

* * *

  
Daria answered the knock on her door and saw her mother in the corridor, looking down. As she stepped out of her stateroom, she said over her shoulder, "Michael, hang on a few minutes and then we'll go for breakfast."

Pouring a cup from the in-room pot, Michael said, "Okay. Do you want some coffee?"

"Please."

Michael nodded and Daria closed the door as he prepared a second cup.

Daria went to Helen. "Mom? What's wrong?"

Helen lifted her eyes from the floor. "I'm feeling a little old this morning."

"Old?"

"I went to knock on Quinn's door to see if she was ready for breakfast." Helen sighed and looked at Daria with a sad smile. "My little girls aren't girls anymore."

Daria only briefly hesitated before putting her arms around her mother.

Helen allowed herself to be held for a nice, long while before pulling away. "Thank you, Daria."

"You're welcome, Mom. Q seems like a good guy. I was kind of expecting Quinn would warm to someone like him."

"Expecting?"

"Do you remember David, that tutor she had a couple summers ago? She had a pretty good crush on him. So I figured that when she decided to stick with one boy instead of changing them like socks, it would be with someone reasonably intelligent."

"That makes sense, now that you mention it. Although I didn't learn about that crush until you were off to college."

"Sorry, Mom."

"She wasn't as obvious as you were with Trent."

"Okay, you've got me on that."

A faint sound caused both to look at Quinn's room and Helen said, "It's unsettling to think about you and Quinn being sexually active."

"Mom," Daria replied. "The feeling is mutual."

That made Helen chuckle. "I suppose it is."

Daria put her hand on the doorknob. "I'll get Michael and you get Dad and we'll head up for breakfastbefore we hear anything else."

"Agreed."

* * *

  
After lunch, Quinn found Daria and Michael on some deck chairs, reading. "You brains just can't stop, can you?" she said, playing.

"I can stop any time I want," Michael said, looking up. "But why bother?"

"When it's so much fun," Daria said.

Quinn nervously laughed and then said, "Uh, Michael, can I talk to Daria?"

"Alone, I take it," Michael said, placing a marker in his book and standing. "Tell you what; I need to meet up with the rest of the guys for one more thing before our surprise tonight. Where's Q?"

"He ran into Dad and they're at the putting range."

"Cool, that's two and then we'll have to track down where Mike wandered off."

"Couldn't you ask Jane?"

"We saw her a little while ago running laps around the deck," Daria said. "When she runs, Jane prefers to be alone."

"Wish me luck," Michael said, then leaned down and kissed Daria. "I'll be back later."

"I'll be here," she said. After Michael walked away, she said, "What's up, sis?"

Quinn sat on the vacated chair. "When did you know that you, um, were in love with Michael?"

Daria faintly smiled at the memory. "Driving back to Boston after Mom and Dad's twenty-fifth anniversary."

Quinn nodded. "How?"

"I was thinking about how much Mom and Dad love each other. Let's face it, that's the only thing that would keep those two together after all these years."

That made Quinn laugh. "Yeah."

"From there, it was just a natural step to thinking about Michael and me the same wayand then it hit me."

"That easy?"

"It wasn't easy, and neither was getting up the nerve to tell Michael, even though I knew he felt the same and had for a couple of months."

"Oh."

"You're wondering," Daria observed.

"I really like Q and I want to be with him, but I just don't know."

"Then you don't know. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I was hoping you could tell me how to know."

"Sorry, but I think that's something everyone has to do on their own. Besides, driving from Lawndale to Boston probably won't work for you."

Quinn laughed again. "I guess not."

"Good luck, though. I think you found a good one."

"Thanks."

Daria leaned close to Quinn and discreetly said, "One piece of advice though, especially for when Mom's around."

"What's that?"

"Keep the volume down a little."

"Keep the volume down? We haven't been playing the radio or TV." When they met Daria's, Quinn's eyes opened wide in shock. "Oh no!"

* * *

  
Michael and Q were joking together when they returned to Daria and Quinn about an hour later. Daria looked at them through the top of her glasses and tapped an open cruise brochure on the arm of her chair. "Welcome back."

Quinn said, "We've got a question."

Michael said, "Uh-oh. We're in trouble."

"Karaoke?" Quinn asked in amazement and dread.

Q looked over at Michael. "Busted."

Daria said, "So you're confirming it."

"Yes," Michael said. "Look, it's going to be fun."

"And whose bright idea was this?"

Q said, "Your father's."

"I've heard Dad sing, Quinn said. "He's not the best in the world."

"He was a bit of a challenge, but I think I worked something out," Michael said. "Though Gina could've done a better job, I think my time in the church chorus helped me organize things."

"We better warn Mom and Jane," Daria said.

Quinn said, "Please tell me that you're not going to wear some kind of costume for this."

"Define costume," Q said with a wince.

* * *

  
The announcer said, "Next, we have a group called The Beach Bums. How about a big welcome for Jake, Michael, Mike and Quinn!"

Jake looked at the others, grinned and stood along with Michael, Mike and Q. Each wore surfer shorts and bright, tropical print shirts. Scattered, polite clapping came from the gathered audience, most apparently there to watch some participant or a participant themselves.

Daria lifted a hand to cover her eyes. "Oh, God."

In almost the same pose as Daria, Helen said, "I was the one who told Jake to try something different."

Quinn looked at her friends gathered around the table. Fran had barely looked up before returning to her conversation with Gerald, while Tammy returned a grin that said she wouldn't forget and Grace pointed a camera to record the evidence.

Also ready to record the evening's events, Jane adjusted her camera to the light level and said, "This has got to be good. Maybe not the singing, but I know I'm going to get some great shots out of this."

The four took the stage and Michael moved to one mike stand while the others gathered around a second. Michael nodded to start the music and his tenor voice chimed in on cue:

_We come on the sloop John B  
My grandfather and me  
Around Nassau town we did roam  
Drinking all night  
Got into a fight  
Well I feel so broke up  
I want to go home_

The others joined in to harmonize on the chorus:

_So hoist up the John B's sail  
See how the mainsail sets  
Call for the Captain ashore  
Let me go home, let me go home  
I wanna go home, yeah yeah  
Well I feel so broke up  
I wanna go home_

More confident, Michael started the next verse,

_The first mate he got drunk  
And broke in the Cap'n's trunk  
The constable had to come and take him away  
Sheriff John Stone  
Why don't you leave me alone, yeah yeah  
Well I feel so broke up I wanna go home_

Buoyed by Michael's singing, the second chorus came in louder and clearer.

_So hoist up the John B's sail  
See how the mainsail sets  
Call for the Captain ashore  
Let me go home, let me go home  
I wanna go home, let me go home  
Why don't you let me go home  
(Hoist up the John B's sail)  
Hoist up the John B  
I feel so broke up I wanna go home  
Let me go home_

__

The poor cook he caught the fits  
And threw away all my grits  
And then he took and he ate up all of my corn  
Let me go home  
Why don't they let me go home  
This is the worst trip I've ever been on

So hoist up the John B's sail  
See how the mainsail sets  
Call for the Captain ashore  
Let me go home, let me go home  
I wanna go home, let me go home  
Why don't you let me go home

Amid the applause from the audience, Jane said, "They better not quit their day jobs, but damn, they sound better after a week's practice than Mystik Spiral ever sounded after years of practice."

Daria said, "It could've been a lot worse and they didn't embarrass themselves."

Helen found herself happily applauding, which, when he saw it, made Jake give her one of his goofy grins.

"They even look kind of cute in those shirts," Quinn said as she clapped. "I only hope he doesn't make a habit of it."

* * *

  
Gerald's arm around her waist, Fran looked forward from the observation deck over the bridge down at the ship's prow. The ship's lights shone on the white foam of the bow waves as they danced on the starlit waters. The wind passing over the ship tugged at her long hair, making it flow behind her like a dark cloak. Fran pressed her cheek against the side of his chest. "We couldn't ask for better."

Gerald leaned his head over to rest on hers. "No, we couldn't."

"This has been a wonderful week."

"Better than I ever imaged a cruise could be."

They stood together for a long time, watching and simply enjoying being with each other. Finally, Fran sighed and said, "It's about time."

With a nod, Gerald said, "You're right."

The couple moved into a tender embrace and kissed. Trying not to think about the tears welling in her eyes, Fran stepped back but held onto Gerald's hands. She took a deep breath and said, "Good-bye. I'll always remember you."

"I'll never forget you, Fran," Gerald said. After a last kiss of her hands, he released them and said, "Good-bye. I wish you all the best."

"And I hope you'll always be happy," she said. By mutual agreement, the slender woman went first down the stairs and disappeared into the decks below.

Gerald watched the empty stair for a couple of minutes and then slowly followed, going to his room without a word.

* * *

  
Fran reached the stateroom door and stopped to wipe her eyes. She fumbled with her keycard and finally got inside the darkened room. Trying to be a quiet as possible, she went to the bathroom to remove her makeup. Done, she opened one of her drawers to find a nightshirt and picked up the photo they'd purchased on St. Thomas. Fran touched the image of her and Gerald together and whispered, "You'll always remember this face and I'll remember you. For once, my scars haven't been in the way and I've been able to just enjoy the company of a boy without worrying about how he'll react when he finds out about my real face. I really needed this vacation. Thank you."

"Hmm?" Karen mumbled and rolled over in the bed. "Fran?"

"Sorry," she said, putting the picture back in its sleeve. Just getting ready for bed."

"One last late night, huh? I'm sure you had a good time."

Fran said, "I did. Thanks."

"Cool."

"What about you?"

"Yeah. I needed this vacation. I had a good time with my friends, and found a new one."

"Me, too."

* * *

  
Their packing complete, Daria sat on the bed next to Michael and leaned against him. "Back to the old grind."

"Hmm, yeah. I can't believe we start classes again in a week and we'll be seniors."

"Seniors." Daria suddenly sat on the corner of the bed. "It all seems so fast and I'm not ready for it to end yet."

"There is one thing I'm looking forward to after graduation," Michael said.

"Yes, I'm looking forward to that, though if you asked me just before starting college about anticipating marriage, I've have considered you quite insane."

"And if you'd have asked me, I'd have asked what drugs were you on and in how many countries were they illegal." He sat behind Daria and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "But I think I get your meaning. College has been so different from high school."

"I'd call it a clear improvement."

He kissed her neck. "You're certainly part of that whole improvement thing."

After a knock, Helen poked her head into the room. "Hurry up or we're going to be late for the airport shuttle. The next one isn't for another half hour and I don't want to try to rush your father through security again."

* * *

  
"Bye, kids, have a safe trip," Helen called back toward her daughters and their friends, who were on the other side of the security cordon in the large central lobby of Orlando International Airport. She and Jake had just navigated through security and were looking back at the others.

"I had a great time!" Jake loudly said. "Thanks for coming along."

After a few more waves, Helen and Jake stepped away from the cordon. They walked to the waiting elevated tram to take them out to the gate. Inside, they held onto a pole and the quiet train started its trip. Helen moved her free arm around Jake and said, "This was a good idea."

"Thanks. I can't remember the last time we had so much fun with our girls."

"I can't, either. We'll have to make sure we hold onto these memories."

* * *

  
On the other side of security, the young people were completing their farewells and departing for their separate terminals, four of which radiated away from the lobby.

"Bye, sis," Quinn said, hugging Daria.

"Bye, Quinn," the older sister replied, also giving her sister a light embrace.

Michael said to Karen, who was watching, "Hmm, the only thing scarier than them acting sisterly toward each other would be if my sister and I acted that close."

"Being on good terms with your siblings isn't that bad," Karen said. "I'm looking forward to seeing my brother and especially my nephew."

Michael said to Q, "Good to meet you."

"Been a pleasure," he replied, shaking the other's hand.

Tammy tapped Quinn on the shoulder. "Come on, Quinn, if you want to have time to drop your boy toy off at his gate so he can fly to his mom's place."

"Okay," Quinn said, letting go of Daria. "You better make it home to Mom and Dad's for Christmas."

Daria gave her an exaggerated sigh. "I will."

Fran stepped forward and gave Karen a fast hug. "Take care of yourself and I hope Derek gets home to you soon."

Though caught off-guard, Karen returned the gesture. "You take care, too."

In moments, the California students were on their way to the security checkpoint for their flight. Karen said, "I better get going, too. See ya'll in another week."

"See ya," Jane said. "We promise not to rent out your room this time."

"Oh, how kind," Karen said. "And don't use my sheets for an art project."

"Damn," Jane muttered.

Daria said, "Bye, Karen. Say hello to Laura for me."

"I will."

With Karen gone, Mike said, "Looks like my turn. I'll see you the next time I'm in Boston."

After Daria and Michael said good-bye, Jane said, "I'll catch up with you two at the gate."

"Okay, later," Daria said before she and Michael turned to walk to their terminal.

* * *

  
Sitting on her carry-on just outside Mack's gate, Jane leaned forward and asked Mack, standing beside her, "Did you really enjoy being on the trip with me?"

"Huh?" Mack said. "I had a good time. The karaoke last night was a blast and watching Michael bring in that fish was a hoot. I thought the tour guide was going to have a cow when he let it go, but hey, I wouldn't want to pay that much to cold ship a big fish to Boston, either."

"That's nice, but I meant with me."

"Oh, um, yeah, I had a good time."

"Really? I was expecting something more but this felt likealmost any other time we've been together lately."

Mack shuffled his feet. "We have been a little preoccupied with other things."

Jane swallowed hard, stood and looked directly at Mack. "I'll be the first to say it this time. We're getting bored with each other. It happens."

"I wouldn't call the sex boring."

"Okay, the sex is always great. But everything else"

"Then why'd we come on this trip?"

"A last grasp at something biga last chance to push away the boredom. Come on, Mack. You know I'm right. You weren't even that sure about coming at first."

"UmJane"

"Mack, I'm sorry. It's not your fault, it's not my fault; it's just not there."

He shook his head. "That's almost exactly what Jodie said, and you're right, dammit."

Jane went to him. "This doesn't mean that I regret seeing you."

"I have no regrets, either, except that things have worked out this way."

Finding tears close to flowing from her eyes, Jane said, "So, what do we do now?"

Just as saddened, Mack said, "We go our separate ways and save our friendship." With that, he grabbed his bags without saying another word. Jane stood watching him disappear into the crowd moving toward his gate. "Damn."

* * *

  
"Hold on," Daria said to Michael. They were seated at a tiny table at a coffee shop near their gate. "Let me go talk to Jane; it looks like something happened."

"Don't let me get in the way," he said. I'll keep an eye on your stuff."

"Thank you."

Daria went to Jane as fast as she could and said, "Hey, what happened?"

Jane had wiped the tears away before getting near the gate, but the redness in her eyes told the story. "Mack and I broke up."

"Oh," Daria said, dumbfounded.

Jane shrugged to try to hide her feelings. "We were drifting apart anyway. I had the guts to admit it this time."

"Um," Daria said, "I think I understand what you felt when you heard that Tom and I broke up."

"Yeah, this was as much of a surprise for all of us."

"How did he take it?"

"He agreed that I was right, but I don't think either of us is taking it all that well."

Daria nudged Jane toward the coffee shop. "Come on, we'll get you a triple espresso with extra sugar. On me."

* * *

  
Tired from the long flight and fight against traffic to get home, Jane pushed their apartment door open and stumbled in carrying her luggage and one of Daria's suitcases. Daria followed with her remaining suitcase and her pet carrier. As soon as it was set on the floor and Daria turned to close the door, a loud "Meow!" came from within.

Daria squatted down and opened the door. "Yes, you're home to your temple and your staff is back and ready to serve."

"You can serve. I'm going to get some rest," Jane said, going to her room.

Daria pulled the black cat into her arms and held it. "We'll try to be quiet," Daria said.

"Meow!"

"Okay, Ill try to be quiet; Bump's going to do her own thing anyway."

Bump nuzzled the underside of Daria's chin and started to purr. Daria carefully stood and went to the sofa. "I see that someone will require personal attention before I get to unpack."

* * *

  
Even with several local fraternity boys carrying their luggage, Quinn and her friends were also exhausted by the time they arrived home to the Tri-Theta house. Tammy kissed one of the boys and said, "Thank you very much."

"Anytime, ladies," he said, executing a short bow before saying, "Now if you'll excuse us, my friends and I will be on our way."

The girls waved and after they were gone, drifted to their separate rooms to unpack. Quinn quietly went to Fran. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," she said. "I know why you're here. Gerald didn't blow me off at the port; we said good-bye the night before. It was more romantic that way and avoided all that awkward, public stuff. Yes, I miss him, but it's okay. I had a fun summer fling and I'm happy with that."

Quinn understood and admitted to herself that she didn't need to be so worried about Fran. "I hope you have good pictures."

"Don't worry."

* * *

  
Marianne looked up with visible relief when she saw Helen walk in the following morning. "It's so good to have you back. How was your trip?"

"I had a wonderful time, but it looks like things haven't been so wonderful here."

Marianne swung her head toward Eric's door. "I think it's about time for him to go into rehab again."

"Just send him my way," Helen said. "I'll deal with him. When are you going on vacation and spending time with your kids?"

"I don't know, Helen," she timidly replied.

"How about next week?" she suggested.

After a momentary loss for words, the secretary said, "Sure, Helen."

"I'll fill out the paperwork right now," Helen said, going past Marianne's desk to her office. "Then I'll look at my backlog."

Eyes wide, Eric barreled out of his office and loomed over Marianne. "Did I just hear Helen?"

"Yes, Eric," she said. "She just went into her office."

Under the effect of what stimulant nobody really knew, Eric almost ran into the office. "Helen! You're back!"

"Yes, Eric," she calmly replied while taking a leave request form from her desk drawer.

"The Martingale case is about to come apart. You need to get on it right away!"

Helen started to neatly fill in the details on the form. "As soon as I take care of this."

"What could be more important than the case?"

"Marianne's leave. She'll be on vacation next week."

"Next week! What will we do?"

"Oh, I suppose we'll get by somehow. Maybe hire a tempor two."

"I better get that set up right away!" he bellowed and disappeared.

Helen finished the form and sighed when she looked at the legal paperwork backlogged on her desk. Instead, she picked up the latest State Bar Association newsletter and turned to the Positions Available section.

* * *

  
Jodie came into the office to find Jake already at his desk. She said, "Good morning, Mr. Morgendorffer. How was the trip?"

"I don't think I've ever had so much fun in my life," Jake said.

"How are Daria and Quinn?"

"They're doing great and I really like their fellas."

"That's nice."

"So, how were things while I was gone?"

"I signed a new client for you and renewed the Mighty Mall Minis account."

"Great!"

I also spent some time looking at the net worth of Morgendorffer Consulting. The results are on your desk." When Jake looked around on his desk, Jodie smiled and said, "Right by your inbox."

"Oh, gotcha." Jake looked at the report and sat back in his seat with a whistle. "Wow."

"That's what I said," was Jodie's reply.

* * *

  
"See you later," Jane said as she raced out of the door to get to work.

Still wearing her sleepwear and seated at her computer, Daria knew that Jane was throwing herself into every activity she could to keep her mind off of the breakup. And as an old friend, she knew that it was the time to give Jane the time she needed, so Daria only said, "Later." Except for Bump sleeping, sphinx-like, in a sunbeam from the window, the apartment was empty and quiet around Daria. Somehow, that seemed just right as she went back to scanning the online help wanted ads for Boston. "Once more unto the breach."

* * *

  
Thanks to Ipswichfan for the "seduction CD" comment from Michael's old classmates.

"Dr. Hunter" was previously used by fanfiction author RangerLou in her story, _Renewal._

_Holiday_ by Jimmy Buffett  
_Sloop John B_ Traditional, arranged by Brian Wilson

Thanks to Lousie Lobinske, Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

December 2007-March 2008


End file.
